Pawn Star

Pawn Star

Palm Springs is in the Colorado Desert east of Los Angeles and is HOT most of the year – except in the summer months – when is unbearably HOT.  The hotels and resorts run great specials in June because no one in their right mind would want to go during that time.  Hence, the sales managers of the company I worked for in 1995 decided to have a 3 day sales meeting there in mid June. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to recall the date an event has taken place 15 years later.  However, I distinctly recall this sales meeting in Palm Springs in 1995 because I rode my new 1995 Harley Davidson Heritage Soft-tail.  Leaving early that Saturday morning in anticipation on beating the heat of the afternoon, the Tehachapi pass on Hwy 58 was still cool, but my leather vest was enough to keep me comfortable.  Through the Mojave Desert in mid morning, over the Cajon Pass on I-15 and through the remote high desert, I took the back roads as much as possible.  By 1:00 PM I was riding down out of the high desert into the Palm Springs basin and the temperature got hotter and hotter as I approached the low desert of I-10.  By the time I got to the destination “resort”, I was parched and exhausted from the 115 F dry desert airs at 75 mph. 

I left my Harley parked out in front of the lobby, checked in and joined the other type-A personalities that composed our sales team who had already started to coalesce at the only reasonable place, at the pool.  The beers tasted good and the pool was instant refreshment.  Something happened to us when we got together.  We were all remote sales people and had been friends for years so getting together was a time to compare stories and share opinions.  Everything was funny and nothing was off limits.  Especially reminiscing how cheap our managers were for having an annual meeting in Palm Springs in June.  Did I say it was 115 degrees?

Tory finally shows up by the pool with a cool little portable bar.  Thank God, because the drinks are expensive and there were no managers out yet with an open tab.  You’ve seen these portable bars, a cheap plastic case holding some glasses, a cocktail spoon, jigger, strainer and shaker.  Tory’s bar also included a bottle of Jack Daniels and a little bottle of maraschino cherries.  I don’t drink the hard stuff anymore (I don’t drink any less either).  He started making Manhattans, a glass of ice filled with Jack Daniels and a spoon of the cherry juice.  The sweetness of the cherry juice took the edge off the whiskey.  At the time I had not remembered tasting a cocktail so good, so refreshing – around fun people, in the pool, telling stories.  Man, the first one was so good.  I’ll have another, and another.  The 115 degree heat that ended up being closer to 120 F in the late afternoon, the fatigue and the cocktails were a deadly combination.  I should have taken my dad’s advice about cocktails: “they are like a woman’s breasts, one is not enough and 3 are too many”.   Especially when they are in a 6 oz glass, in 120 degree heat and the afternoon sun and having too much  fun to keep count. 

I survived with no mishaps and a great memory and recipe for Manhattans.  Sometime later I saw a portable bar in an antique store.  This one was from the 50’s and in perfect shape.  Not cheap plastic, but leather like with brass hardware and locking clasps.  Now I can make the Manhattans at the next party.  I kept the bar in my home office ever since, on guard for the next party.  I never used it once.  Now in 2012, I’m moving back into my home office for my new job.  Betty put my prized portable bar out for the next Goodwill run.  I really could not object.  I hadn’t used it once and I don’t dink the hard stuff anymore (or any less – an old joke).  I loaded everything up and made the drop off at the Goodwill, but I just couldn’t dump off the bar.  I can sell this thing.  It will just get ruined at the Goodwill.  It’s not like I need the money.  It represents a fond memory and if I can sell it, it may give that memory some more value.

I can sell it to an antique store.  That’s where I bought it.  I went to the Curiosity shop on 19^th street.  I like to old guy there in the wheel chair.  He seems like a man who could appreciate it.  I’ve bought a couple flasks from him over the years. 

He looks at it, “what’s missing?” he asks.

“It’s missing one glass” There were only five glasses of the original six, gold rimed I might add.

“No, these empty places?” Looking at the glass shaker with the cocktail recipe’s on it.

“That’s where the booze goes, Jack Daniels, Scotch and gin” I point out.  “It’s a self sustained portable bar.  It carries the booze and everything you need but the ice”.

“It’s nice.  But I have no place to put it and if I leave it open, people will just steal the stuff out of it or break it.  The most I would give would be $25.  But I can’t use it”.

“That’s cool”.  I didn’t want to sell it that bad anyway.

So I tried the Wooden Nickel where the crack heads fence the stuff they steel from breaking and entering.  The guy there says, “That’s cool” and tries to find some kind of value on his computer.

 “What do you want for it?” he asks.

“You have a cheap plastic one with nothing in it for sale on the shelf back there for $29.  You can sell this one for at least $60.  I’d like to get $25”.  I figure like on “Pawn Stars” these guys will really low ball you, so I better ask double what I would be happy with.  If I can get $10, it’s better them schlepping this thing around downtown Bakersfield any longer.

“Sorry, I have to pass” he decides. 

After my Dr’s appointment, I thought I’d give it one more try.  I went to the Pawn shop on 19^th street just east of Chester.  Waiting in line behind the druggies, the guy behind the glass calls me over and asked to take a look at the case I was carrying.

“What do you got”? 

“A portable bar”

I open it up for his perusal, “That’s cool”.  It’s the common assessment from everyone that saw it.  “Where is the rest of it?”

“It’s all there.  The gold rimmed glassed, the shaker, the cork screw, spoon, jigger, keys for the lock.  These places are for the booze, Jack Daniels, Scotch, Gin.  Everyone that comes in here looking for one of your guitars will want this bar to take with him on his gigs.  Every rock star needs a portable bar”.

“What do you want for it”?  I could tell he liked it. 

“$25 dollars”. 

“I’ll give you $10”

“How about $20”?  You know it’s cool.

“I’ll give you $10”

“Can you do $15?”  This guy is not going to budge.   I guess we all watch the same show on TV. 

“I’ll give you $10 dollars.”

 “Come on man, you’ll sell this for $60 dollars here.”

“I doubt that.  I’ll give you $10 dollars”

“OK.  You’ll probably take it home with you, it’s so cool” I said as he took it from me.

I took the $10 dollars.  It’s better than leaving it at the Goodwill.  Maybe someone will make some memories.  I’m such a Pawn Star. 

When I told Betty about it and that it was my next blog, she says, “did you take a picture of it for your blog?”  When your readers see how cool it is, they would give you more that $10 dollars for it” 

“Now you tell me”.