True story. About me and a skeleton named Boner. When I was an adorable child I never thought I'd grown up and write about boners in the antiques capital of Colorado. Or anywhere for that matter.
OK, I've apparently had this blog for 10 yesrs. I say apparently, because I've been ill for many years (and still am a bit) so I haven't witten or even looked at my blog for years.
The first years as you can see where all about antiques in Florence, Colorado and a few other happy or interesting things about the area. I was having a blast sharing because I really like this area of beautiful Colorado.
I worked at an antques shop and then an antiques mall for about six years. The more I worked, the more I saw. Happy and fun co-workers and customers. And then boners, crime and secrets I am slightly certain that most Florence businesspeople would not want to get out.
Someone asked how it was working at such and such store. I said,"The person has NO business running a business. He is an abuser and I won't talk about it until the time is right or people pass away(of natural causes of course, but the more I've seen and heard natural causes or accidents might not be that accurate)."
The said person is not dead but is out of business and moved out of state. Many of the people involved are truly dead--so the true stories about them won't hurt anyone. While I will not use real names, some folks might know who I am referring to and I don't want to cause anyone negative emotions or hurt the relatives of the dead people or the town in general. And while I am attempting to really not have them identified--my attitude is the same as most writers--don't do anything so stupid in the first place that you'd be embarrassed if someone wrote a true story mentiong you.
This is my first post about behind the scenes in Florence. I will always put antiques confidential in the titles so they will be easy to find. And many of these antiques capital behind-the-scenes looks will also have What The Frog in search engine labels. Because, yes, most of behind-the-scenes stories are simply ridiculous and of course as they are happening to me--or people I know--I'm not thinking What The Frog, but don't want to offend people using the F word overly much.
Florence has many fun events like Pioneer Days with a parade. Car show. Junktique, etc. I was working at ye olde antiques mall when a fellow about my age in my late 50s then (maybe a touch older) asked me to come see his skeleton named Boner. Oh yes! I was dreaming of the day I would be shown a Boner skeleton. But since I am representing a very nice antiques mall, I didn't feel like saying."Get the fluck away from me you possibly creepy arsehole!" The skeleton was visible on his vehicle just across the street from me.
I went to see Boner. I guess I showed JUST enough interest but not enough to get the full Boner treatment. Fast forward to the year after meeting Boner for the first time. Apparently Boner's owne remembered me from last year during this event--according to what appeared to be a female friend of his.
Boner's owner, for some reason I can't recall, decided to follow me back to the mall just across the street when I told him I had to get back to work. Break over. He scooped Boner up to show others in the antiques mall and trotted behind me holding Boner. I open the door with him hot on my trail and look at my co-workers semi-shocked faces of seeing a man following me clutching a full-sized skeleton. I quickly said,"This is so-and-so who wants to show you his cool skeleton, Bones." You think the dumb idiot took my hint? After all the antiques mall is jammed with customers and I don't freaking want the word BONER screamed out loud. Or even whispered.
Well I didn't get my wish. I don't guess people clutching Boners have much self awareness or emotional intellegence or common sense.
He screams so the whole mall hears," HIS NAME IS BONER! THIS IS A BONER!"
I don't even have the words--except to recount another boner story. WHAT THE FROG??!!! There are TWO boner stories in Florence the classy antiques capital of Colorado? Yes! Yes there are!
This one involves a former friend of mine. A gentleman who used to stop in Florence's shops just to vist with folks. He is an intellegent and pleasant person. He was honest in some ways and told me he struggled with mental health issues more than the average person. I didn't notice how much a struggle until one day I was just standing in the mall--not saying a word and certainly not talking about religion or politics at any time. He screamed at me"You fucking Nazi!" I was so stunned I didn't say anything. Then he told me I drove him crazy. In fact, I offered to be his friend and to drive him to medical appointments and told him he would never be alone if he got sick or or needed someone a few blocks away to bring him medicine or soup, etc. He quickly went back to normal and realized who he was talking to--but never explained why he thought I was a Nazi.
So one day I am having a pedicure in Florence. And I didn't bring it up that I even knew this dude. But the lady who was salon co-owner was like me--in that she always wanted to see people happy and find someone to pal around with if they were lonely.
The salon owner was telling Nazi-calling guy that she was happy he found a lady friend, I think it was someone she knew, that was kind and a great dinner and lunch companion. He had made no bones (pun intended) to me and many others apparently he was lonely as hell and had no family to speak of and they lived far away.
And here we go again. The salon was filled with customers and Nazi yells out,"What do you mean a friend?!!! I WANT TO BONE HER!!!"
Yeah! Yippe! Boy have a I got a guy that I need to introduce Nazi to with the perfect ice breaker men across all economic and social stratas need to carry everywhe so women TRULY know the dude isn't just angling for a lunch companion.
I'm digging up bones. But the bones are stories that are ridiculously sad and funny at the same time.
