By now my companion was looking a bit off and not feeling up to his usual so we decided this would be our last stop of the day. Really, he just wanted to go out on a high note and the last antique store was… underwhelming.
Luckily, we hit another treasure with this one! It seemed to be all the weirdness of the first antique store of the day combined with all the respectability of the second, in a larger space. Fancy paintings adorned the wall with old foreign ad posters. We found cultural items from all over the world – some which I still maintained probably came with a free curse for the white people buying them, but I digress. There were African statuary, a bunch of scary masks, and even full Samauri armor. I was also mesmerized by this gorgeous swinging baby cradle. Other hits were a writing desk fit for a wealthy historical fiction author, a wire rat Halloween decoration, a country chic armoire, and a tin Easter bunny from the bowels of hell.
A woman sat in the main part of the shop and kept an eye on customers, and I knew my photo taking was making her a little tense but me being me I wasn’t about to say anything. I swear to god, I’m not casing the place, and the things I am taking photos of are not the most valuable items, more like the most random. Congrats on that Easter bunny!
As I was leaving she finally asked if I was having fun taking photos or something along those lines and I said, “Yes! I’m taking them for a travel blog.” The ensuing conversation honestly just served to confuse her more, but she did say if I ever get the chance I should go to England. Touché. My companion seemed more entertained by this conversation than myself who resorted to self-depreciating humor because I lack the imagination to see myself financially well off enough to go overseas again and I also suck at lying. Especially on the spot. These things take planning. And need crazy detailed back stories. No? I guess I may be the odd one here.
Maybe someday I will visit England. Or all the countries on those two little islands half a world away where all my ancestors seem to have come from. Or perhaps I can see the Oracle at Delphi, or revisit the Parisian catacombs, or sit with the rats at the Karni Devi waiting for a white one to approach. It is nice to dream, isn’t it?