Jared parked his car and got out. He was standing in front of what looked like a junk pile. He pulled the paper out of his pocket to make sure he was at the right place.
Yup, it was.
“Looks more like a place American Pickers would like.” He muttered to himself. He wandered if there actually were any antiques in this place. “Who am I to judge?” he asked and stuck closely to the path amongst the junk.
The door was already open when he got there with an old man standing there like an old, faded painting.
“Are you the antiques guy?” he called, though Jared was only a few feet away.
“I am.” He stepped forward, hand out to shake.
“You look like you should still be in diapers! How are you going to know what my stuff’s worth?”
Jared dropped his hand and frowned. He should he used to this by now, but diapers? Really?
“Sir, you can rest assured I know what I’m doing.”
“Eh? Speak up!” The old man cupped a hand around his ear.
Jared had a brief flash to the ear horn he had just sold last week.
“I said you can rest assured—”
“I can wrestle soup?”
Jared blinked, trying not to laugh. “No, rest assured--”
“Wrinkled suits? I don’t have any of those.”
Hehe. The old guy was fun! Jared is 28 and own an antiques store/appraises antiques. He can travel for this job and that's what he's doing here. For those of you who don't know what American Pickers is, it's a TV show I do believe History Channel about these guys who go to people's houses and go through their junk and find what's worth money and buy it from them to turn around and sell it for more money. All the episodes I've peeked in on, the houses were like stuffed with stuff.“No!” he said louder. “Rest. Assured!”
The words for this week are:
BTW, my writers group quite enjoyed my story about Bert. Yey!