I chipped a woman's table
- From: iL_WeReo <caljamscott@xxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sat, 2 Jun 2012 01:57:20 -0700 (PDT)
Ah, working for the late great Mr. Stair in the early eighties and
such. He's gone, Mr. Percival's gone, the great Casper Ingrassia's
gone. The only one left is Mr. Murdock. He's huge. He puts the
gasoline into every car in the world. He puts the stake onto every
dinner table in America, and he awlso owns Dole Foods. Needless to say
he's on the Forbes Top 200 for sure.
There was that day Ms. Poulette sent me out to deliver some of Mr.
Stair's prized silverware somewhere in midtown. Along the way I came
across a lively Three Card Monty game in the street. Back then they
were prevelant in New York. It looked so simple I had this big urge to
start betting Mr. Stairs silverware against these creeps.
You ever hear the expression "you can't win at Three Card Monty?" Well
heed those words, my friends, heed those words. And I'll tell you
why...
Then they had me wrap a glass top to a very expensive table to deliver
to some woman. Perhaps Casper should've given me better instructions
on wrapping, because I didn't warp the glass to the antique table too
correctly. Along the way I chipped a corner of the 150 year old glass.
When we delivered it to the woman I was hoping she wouldn't notice,
but she did. It was not a happy day. I don't think there's any way
they can repair that type of damage to glass.
Then another time me and Casper were handling some more antiques at
the annual Armory Show on Park Avenue. Mr. Stair was there, albeit in
the next room. I got careless and slightly damaged another piece of
furniture, I forgot what it was. It made a loud crackling noise. Thank
God Mr. Stair didn't hear it. He was just out of earshot of the
hearing it.
Oh, it was a wonderful experience working for Mr. Stair & stuff.
"Where would you like this table?" Emelda Marcos was asked in the
Phillipine Embassy. How about you, Mr. Cliburn? And you the producers
of the Excorcist? Please don't throw the stuff around like that haha.
Then they had me deliver a $250,000.00 painting somewhere. I get
hungry along the way. So I went into the coffee shop down the block (I
think it's still there) with this $250,000.00 painting between my legs
at the counter. You kinow luckily there were no hawks there watching
me who are well aware of the value of Mr. Stair's goods. I'm sure they
would kill someone for a painting like that. In fact I'm surprised it
didn't happen, that there wasn't more of that. There are professional
art thieves awl over the world. All they had to do was stake out the
store. I was trusted by Mr. Stair and stuff but still, you know what I
mean?
.
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