Confessions Of An Antiques Store Worker: We All Need A Hug

Working in an antiques store is kind of like sitting in an old general store with a pickle barrel and  checkers. That's a good thing. It's  like feeling the pulse of a town.

I find out people's stories. And that's what I love. Antiques are about stories. But to me it's just a vehicle to find out about what makes people tick. Tick. Tock. Like a vintage clock, chiming a comforting tone.

Usually the stories are upbeat. Sometimes controversial. And sometimes INCREDIBLY sad and touching.

Let me tell you about America. I can tell you about it, without leaving ye olde antiques store.

I rarely mention names on this blog (unless I get permission) and all the observations are true, but for obvious reasons I don't include all details so as not to intrude on people's deepest feelings.

Let me tell you about America. At least in my small town of Florence, Colorado.

I rang up a purchase for a nice gentleman. Another antiques dealer had stopped in to check out their booth. The gentleman asked if we had heard about a tragic story in the news that involved the death of a young person. We said yes. He said that was his child.

Tears immediately came to me, unasked. I wiped them away before anyone noticed. Then I noticed the other dealer with tears.

I am a shy person by nature, but leaned across the counter and gave the gentleman a hug. He hugged me back.

I told him I had read the obituary and also watched the news and told him something I remembered about his child, even though I never met his child. His eyes watered.

The other dealer told him that he had no idea how many people heard or read about his child and were praying for him daily, even though the death has faded from the news. The dealer went on to encourage him in every area of his dark journey.

In the midst of his grief and appreciation that two strangers "remembered" his child, he mentioned he was in the antiques store buying an item for his brother as a gift.

Let me tell you about small-town America. It's not different than anywhere else in America. There are good people everywhere. It's just easier to notice them in a small town. It's just easier to find a person with incredible courage that is out doing things for others even after losing a child. It's just easier to "remember" when someone had a tragedy. And it's easier in the slower pace to take time to share that human touch.

The gentleman started to leave. I wanted to hug him again so much--but thought I should not, since the first hug I gave him was spontaneous.

As he was leaving he looked at me and said, "May I have another hug? My child was all about hugging."

He did not have to ask twice.

Confessions Of An Antiques Store Worker: Religion & Politics

Everyone knows it's not polite to talk about religion and politics. I rarely do, unless someone else brings it up. And it's not because I don't have an opinion or two (or two thousand) it's because I feel those are subjects for family and trusted friends.

And it's a definite taboo in a retail situation. I always feel I need to be a neutral worker when representing someone else's business--whether that business is an antiques store or several publications I have written for.

I know it's tough to be neutral and objective in this world--but it's how I was trained and part of my nature.

But that doesn't mean that numerous customers don't bring up politics.

I do believe pollsters should be paying me for the information I have collected, just by being neutral and listening to people who bring up politics.

And here's even the demographics. Colorado is a purple state.

My demographics are mainly men who bring up politics. OK, one woman brought it up out of 100 or more men. I don't interpret the facts, I just get amazed over those uneven demographics inwardly.

I'll give you a sample of one conversation that happened today. But it is representative of dozens of them over the months.

HIM: I don't want no socialist for a president.

ME: Oh, my!

HIM: Darn socialist.

ME: Then who would you want as president?

HIM: TRUMP!

Here's my unofficial poll, so far, taken in an antiques store--without me EVER starting the conversation.

TRUMP--100 plus
RUBIO--0
CRUZ--0
CARSON-0
CLINTON-0
SOCIALIST GUY-0

OK, you get the point.

So, am I to conclude that in a purple state, ALL antique shoppers and browsers are for Trump?

I won't reveal who I am for.

Wait! Is that a picture of my beloved terrier mix that I combed some of his hair and then plopped it on his head to make him look a little like Trump--and called his new hair-do: Trump Your Poochie in a previous blog post?

 No, I'd never do anything like that. OK, I would. And I haven't looked in my own blog archives, but I believe back in July or August, I already called the race. Not on personal or unofficial polls of antique store goers--but based on bad hair. I predicted that Trump and Saunders might be battling it out late in the race, because the spoils might go to the folks with the worst hair.

OK, I think antiques are funny. I think politics are funny. Wait, I think just about everything that isn't truly serious can be funny. And here's what I find funny--but eye-opening.

I live in a purple state, sort of in middle America. And in a rural area. And dozens and dozens of people come up to me and confide they are for Trump. It's sort of like a confessional without having to go visit a priest. They'll probably not run into me again--and if they do, I'll never reveal what they told me.

I have no problem with that. They all do acknowledge he is rough and maybe needs to keep his trap shut a little more. BUT, they usually give me a smile that says: I secretly love it!

I am far removed from the East Coast. But it is where my roots are. Even though I have been gone since kindergarten, I understand the differences in politics, humor, culture, jokes, etc. on the East Coast versus other parts of the country. I have lived in most parts of the country--and what flies in the way of humor in the East, might be frowned on in the South.

See, what former presidential candidate Rick Perry is doing would be considered perhaps OK in the South, but not in the East. Wait, I really looked closely at this picture--what he is doing would not be considered OK anywhere.

Turn your attention back to that Trump photo. I chose it for a reason. Not to put the Donald in a bad light. It just reminds me a bit of how my grandmother (East Coast through and through) used to look (minus the combover) and express her emotions. Unless you've been around it or raised around it--it can be a bit off-putting. For those who know a little about some portions of the East (and some Italians) Trump reminded me of granny when she used to do (and say) the Fangul. This is a family-friendly blog, so if you really want to know the history of the Fangul--Google it.

So, just saying. I'm a little surprised that folks here are coming out in droves and talking about Trump. And that's the confessions of an antiques store worker for today.

Confessions Of An Antiques Store Worker: Florence, Italy or Florence, Colorado?

I've worked a few places in my life. And they all have had their moments. But truly the most interesting jobs I've ever had is working at several antiques shops.

Confessions of an antiques store worker? No, you won't find anything too spicy here. Just mildly amusing or heartwarming. But then, just about anything amuses me or makes my heart melt.

Here's today's--Who Says Antiques Can't Be Fun?

My confessions come from working in Florence, the antiques capital of Colorado. No, I've never worked with either of the Keno brothers (pictured above), of Antiques Roadshow fame, but I did get to see them years ago in Denver at an Antiques Roadshow taping. And they are just as hyper and charming, jumping all around the furniture, in person as on TV.

Today I was working at ye olde antiques store and a father and daughter came in. He purchased a few old bottles and some Life magazines. He bought his daughter a nice, but inexpensive turquoise ring. She thanked him profusely.

I was warmed by it. Just observing a father and daughter out for a fun day was nice.

As I handed him his bag, he said," Today my wife is arriving in Florence, Italy. So when I talked to her I said, 'Well we are ALSO going to be in Florence today!'"

I chuckled. "Where are you all from?"

He said Colorado Springs, but he just had to come to Florence today--so he could feel a connection and make a little family joke and memory about them all being in Florence today, even though his wife was visiting their other daughter who was studying in Florence, Italy.

I said,"And that begs the question, which Florence is the better place to be today?"

He laughed, but I could tell he thought it was a tie, because each parent was sharing a special moment with their daughters in Florence, at almost the same moment.