Pawn.

by JLF , Tuesday, March 19, 2013, 23:14 (4212 days ago) @ Otony

My first serious working guitar was a Gibson Les Paul Black Beauty, thanks to the kind generosity of an old pawnbroker who made me a giveaway deal on it, and then let me pay it out while I used it. Over the years, when I wasn't playing, I would pawn it for rent that I blew on a gun, or some other such genius level problem. It would always bring $100, which was serious money, but still only a fraction of it's value even then. I knew my 90 days from habit, and never had a problem. Right...

Happy as a clam one day, motoring past the pawn shop, my mind let out a scream, and I locked up the brakes and slid into the parking lot. Frantically digging out my receipt, it was the 91st day. I tore into the shop waving my receipt. "We're real sorry young feller, but the guitar is already gone." Right, gone maybe 30 feet to the backroom. Screwed is screwed, nobody's fault but my own.

From that day until the day he died, Bill Powell and I had a ritual. Every August 10th, he would make it a point to come visit. I would stand in the center of the living room and bend over, and he would deliver a resounding swift kick to my behind. By my memory, at least 30 years worth. I deserved every one.

JLF