Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Another trophy story. We may have been financially scratching our a$$ but we looked GOOD.
After I got out of the service I lived pretty close to the earth. I moved into the tipi for about 14 months When I left the tipi there was a period of insane living situations I won't get into here but things eventually settled. I moved into an apartment with a room mate.
It was dead basic spartan place I shared with another vet (a grunt) and anything I had in the way of furnishings was whatever we could dig up.
The two of us both knew a guy that worked in a trophy place and one night over beers asked him what they did with returns and damaged trophies. He said they threw them away.
I laughed. "Put my name on them and send them here," I said.
The following weekend we scrounged some boards and made a crude set of shelves and over the next couple of months trophies started coming in at a pretty good clip. My roomie and I were surprised.
It was pretty good. I was now a kick boxing champ, a winner of swimming meets, drag races, martial arts showdowns, shooting matches, bull riding contests, marathons, skydiving contests, you name it, I had won it. I was even the hot air balloon champion of New Mexico.
Or at least had the trophy to prove it.
My roomie and I laughed over it and he was amazed that I could keep a straight face when people would ask me if all of the trophies were mine.
"They sure are," I'd reply. It wasn't a lie. The trophies were all mine. They had been lawfully given to me.
If someone asked me if I had WON all the trophies I'd reply, "They're all mine," which again was no lie. They were mine.
It was pretty neat, and to tell you the truth it impressed a lot of the local women that came into the apartment. They were so impressed with the trophy case they didn't even notice the stuffing coming out of the sofa.
When I eventually moved out and headed to Alaska I simply left the for my roomie to use as chick bait and heard later he had gotten a good job somewhere else and moved on.
I suppose they ended up in a dumpster somewhere.
Still, 35 years later it's amusing to look back on because I got the wall full of trophies simply by asking what they did with returns and damaged trophies and asking if I could have them.
I learned that it never hurts to ask.
I also got to see how easily people are fooled with a bunch of foolish shiny trinkets.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html