2002jan07. Estate Sale, Estate Sale! Oh, it’s an estate sale. I did some ebay speculation again. I hate when I do that. Yeah, I only spend three or four dollars (in this case, on an old backgammon set), and I only do it with stuff that I’ve seen that’s “hot,” but then I never put the damn thing up for auction. And it sits there. I mean, really ... backgammon. Who the hell wants to play that? Go, chess, naughts and crosses, sure. Anyway, we went into the garage and there was the time machine.
No, really. I was sure of it. It was a wooden cabinet, chest high, sort of minimalistic, with a few flourishes here and there. The top was angled, like a lectern. It had a boss clock, right in the center, because that’s what time machines have. Various knobs and such. Drawers.
Or electrolysis machines. Yeah, the drawers were sick with Electrolysis 1954 mini-magazines. But I could just chisel off the front panel that said “Electroylsis Machine” or whatever, and change that, and wham, I’ve got my own time machine. Maybe I could use it to go back to the dotcom heyday and scam a quick $175 out of a gullible VC to pay for it.
I couldn’t take the chance on being rejected, so I just slunk to the cashier with my backgammon set. Everytime I buy something from these estate sale people, something funny happens. This time, my change was ten dollars short. Ha ha. Always funny. I held tight onto that twenty until I saw some more Abes comin’ out of that till. Can’t be shortin’ me Abes in this economy. Which, according to economists, is picking up. You betcha. Gimme my damned time machine.