Antique Desk

I saw the most perfect desk. Absolutely perfect. I had seen it before at the antique shop and now I had come back to negotiate the price. I knew that the antique dealer would go down at least 10%. I figured I could afford at least that much. This would be a great piece to use for my
beading work station in the living room.

Then, I saw a chair. I started unloading stuff from the chair to get a better look at it. The chair was little wobbly, not quite the right color, but it could work. Hmm, could I afford both? And the next question was, these pieces were way to large to fit in our Nissan. But I knew that Paul would know how to get them home. There was so much stuff on this chair. The dealer had it decorated for who knows what. Doilies, pins on the doilies. Tons of crap.

Time to negotiate and find the dealer. Where was she? Uh oh. The regular dealer wasn't here. A lady with long hair and a plaid shirt came waddling into the shop. So, I asked her if she could do anything on the desk. She said that she didn't know, it wasn't her shop. But the dealer had left her a list. She looked up the desk on the list. 60% off! My heart lept! The perfect desk was about to be mine. Now for the chair. But before I could ask her, the phone rang, and she excused herself.

I woke up. Damn. What a great antiques dream.