Monday, September 17, 2018

TIMECLOCK -- Entry #2

Entry #2 - Spoon Appraisal and A Latex Llama

That's how I got to the pawn shop. Actually a very expensive taxi ride is how I got to the pawn shop. I suppose it would have been cheaper to go to a pawn shop in my own town and not six states over, but I felt like a road trip. I also felt like going on a road trip, and the taxi driver didn't seem to mind all that much either. I think he was just lonely and craved human companionship.

Speaking of human companionship, I once tried out an online dating service that didn't involve computers or the internet. I was a bit confused about how they were able to call it "online" without the internet, but as they didn't even have a website, I couldn't figure out any way to ask. I wasn't even sure how to set up my profile, and the whole thing seemed rather inefficient and quite possibly entirely one big scam...

So after a few dates, I deleted my account somehow and moved on with my life.

Oh right, the pawn shop. Thank you for reminding me.

I took one step into the cluttered, dusty shop and immediately knew I was in the right place. Right there on the front of the counter, in big red letters, the phrase "We appraise spoons" was written in a very neat and tidy cursive. Honestly, I was more astonished that anyone knew cursive anymore than I was that they had made a sign so utterly specific to my exact need.

So I traipsed right on in and rang the bell that sat on the counter, in hopes that I could get some service.

"Hey! Be careful with that bell! It's an antique," came a shout from the back room. "You break it; you buy it."

"That seems an incredibly inefficient order of business," I replied. "Say I want to buy something that isn't broken."

"I'm not going to say that. Who am I to know what you want to buy?"

I stood confused at the question for a brief moment, before I remembered that I didn't actually want to buy anything at all. I then concluded that I should inform the man that I didn't actually want to buy anything at all.

"I don't actually want to buy anything at all," I said, quite sure that the argument had now been won in my favor.

"I suppose there's no sense in arguing with you about this," came the reply, which made me intensely proud. Feeling a newfound sense of boldness in my glory, I carried on taking charge of the situation.

"Yes, I actually stopped in to get this here spoon here appraised, and I read there on your sign there that you do such a thing here in this fine establishment here." I was getting good at this.

"Incredible!" shouted the weird little man as he finally stepped out from the back room. "I not only just put up that sign this morning, and I never thought I would get much business for it so soon... or ever. But here you are standing there, spoon in hand, wanting my appraisal of said spoon. I could just shoot myself with glee!!"

He began to grin a strange thin little grin that seemed to stretch from the left side of his face all the way to Arizona, which I can tell you is a long ways away. Actually I think Arizona might have been to his left, so that analogy doesn't actually work as such, but you get the point.

"You see, spoons have always been a big hobby of mine," continued Franco. His name was Franco by the way. Franco was a good four feet tall, four feet wide, and I'm fairly certain he was also four feet front to back. The man was round, is what I am trying to say. His grey hair reached his shoulders, except the hair that was on the top of his head, because there was none. He was bald with a mullet. He was round and bald with a mullet. But at least he was happy. Well, happy is an understatement. This round, bald, mullety lump of a man was ecstatic.

He went on about how ecstatic he was. "I can't even begin to tell you how ecstatic I am," he said. "Someone actually wants me to appraise their spoon! Yes, I just love spoons. I love to look at them, feel the roundness of the spoony part, admire the craftsmanship of the handle... Occasionally, there are logos and pictures on the top of the handle that tell you where the spoon is from! Did you know that you can also use spoons as a utensil to eat with?"

"Go figure," I said, placating the crazy little blob as best as I could. I felt it was best to appease the man, as he was apparently a tad unhinged. I also couldn't help but wonder what he thought normal people such as myself did with spoons, if not eat with them. I decided not to bother asking.

"Let me see that fine spoon of yours." I handed him the spoon cautiously, in case he tried to bite me or something. "Ah yes, let's see what we have here," he mumbled softly as he placed a monocle over his right eye. You don't see monocles all too often anymore, but then again, you don't really see a stuffed llama covered in black latex very often either…

Yet here I was looking at both. “Why would someone pawn a latex llama?” I started to think to myself. I was about to have an answer too, but Franco cut me off mid-thought.

"Holy crickets! Do you know what you have here?!" I answered as surely as I could, "A spoon?"

I thought my answer was sufficient, but I guess Franco felt differently. "Oh this is so much more than that! This is one of the lost spoons of Tawlanok!"


Read the full adventure HERE!