THE ANTIQUE DEALER MUST BE ALL THINGS TO ALL PEOPLE - WELL NOT REALLY
OF COURSE YOU WILL WANT TO SEE MY ETCHINGS
A YOUNG LADY CAME INTO OUR PRESENT ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE WING, OF OUR SONS' VINTAGE MUSIC SHOP, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, AND AFTER HUMMING TO HERSELF FOR AWHILE, ENGAGED ME IN CASUAL CONVERSATION. AFTER SHE HAD DONE THE ROUNDS, AND ASKED A FEW QUESTIONS ABOUT DEPRESSION GLASS, AND ENQUIRING IF WE WOULD BE GETTING ANY OAK DRESSERS IN, ON THE WAY OUT THE DOOR SHE SAID, "YOU KNOW, I'VE ALWAYS HAD THIS OPINION OF ANTIQUE DEALERS……AS ALL LOOKING LIKE THEY SHOULD BE BROTHERS OF AUSTIN POWERS! YOU DON'T LOOK ANYTHING LIKE AUSTIN POWERS!" OF COURSE SHE WAS REFERRING TO THE BRITISH CHARACTER, CANADIAN COMEDIAN MIKE MYERS PLAYED, IN THE AUSTIN POWERS MOVIES OF SEVERAL YEARS AGO. I WONDERED WHETHER OR NOT I SHOULD BE FLATTERED, BECAUSE AUSTIN HAD HORRIBLY CROOKED TEETH, OR JUST CHUCKLE AND CLOSE THE MATTER…….WITHOUT ANY RETORT WITH A BRITISH ACCENT. I WAS SITTING HAVING A COFFEE AND A GINGER SNAP, AN HOUR LATER, AND ALL OF A SUDDEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT WHAT SHE SAID, AND I INHALED COOKIE AND COFFEE SO DEEPLY IN MY LUNGS, I REALLY THOUGHT I WAS A GONER. BUT HONESTLY, IN OUR PROFESSION, WHERE ANECDOTES AND TALL TALES ARE PART OF A DAY'S WORK, THIS YOUNG LADY HAD MADE A REAL IMPRINT. I THOUGHT I MIGHT GO OUT AND GET A MULTI-COLORED BLAZER AND RED BELL BOTTOM PANTS, AND SOME THICK GLASSES…..AND SEE IF THIS AUSTIN POWERS LOOK WILL IMPROVE OUR SALES FIGURES. I LOVE THIS BUSINESS FOR ALL THE UNEXPECTED INCIDENTS THAT ARE SOMEHOW INSPIRED BY OLD THINGS, HISTORICAL CONTEXT, AND AN UNSPECIFIED AMOUNT OF RECKLESS ABANDON, AS YOU WILL SOON READ ABOUT.
I HAVE LEARNED A LOT ABOUT HUMAN NATURE IN MY YEARS AS AN ANTIQUE DEALER. I HAVE HAD A LOT OF LAUGHS, MANY, MANY PERIODS OF INTENSE LEARNING, JOY, A LITTLE BIT OF SORROW, AND ALL IN ALL, THE KIND OF FULFILLING, EXCITING EXPERIENCES THAT HAVE KEPT ME IN THE SAME PROFESSION SINCE THE LATE 1970'S. YOU MAY FIND IT IMPOSSIBLE THAT AN ANTIQUE DEALER COULD GET INTO ANY KIND OF HOLLYWOOD, "INDIANA JONES" STYLE ADVENTURES, OR NAUGHTY BUSINESS WITH OUR CUSTOMERS, BUT MANY OF US HAVE COME CLOSE. BUT WE LIKE TO SAY, "YEA BUT CLOSE ONLY COUNTS IN HORSESHOES." LIKEWISE, IF I WAS TO TELL YOU, THAT LIKE THE CABLE-GUY, ANTIQUE AND COLLECTABLE DEALERS CAN GET INTO UNEXPECTED SITUATIONS, OUT ON CALLS, THAT WOULD PROVIDE INSPIRATION FOR A HOLLYWOOD SCRIPT. I'VE BEEN INTO HOUSES THAT WERE FRIGHTENING, BECAUSE OF THE CONDITION OF THE RESIDENCE, CLEANLINESS, AND THE INTRUSIONS OF THE HALF NAKED, BEER-BELLIED HOST WHILE ATTEMPTING, TO OFFER A MODEST APPRAISAL OF WHAT CAN ACTUALLY BE SEEN WITHOUT USING A BACKHOE TO MOVE THE DEBRIS.. I'VE SEEN HOARDERS UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL, AND THERE'S NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT FINDING THIS OUT, MUCH TOO LATE, TO BEAT A HASTY RETREAT. I HAVE A FEAR OF HURTING SOMEONE'S FEELINGS, BUT HONESTLY, THERE ARE TIMES WHEN THERE ISN'T ANY CHOICE WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO HEALTH AND WELFARE. SOME COLLECTIONS I'VE SEEN HAD SO MUCH CONTAMINATION THAT THE AIR QUALITY JUST STANDING IN THE DOORWAY, WAS PUTTING US AT RISK. I'VE BEEN IN SITUATIONS WHERE THE SMELL OF CAT URINE GAVE ME THE DRY HEAVES, AND I HAD TO EXCUSE MYSELF TO THE LADY'S FRONT LAWN. I OFFERED AN APOLOGY THAT I COULDN'T STAY, BECAUSE OF A STOMACH AILMENT, AND HER OFFERING ME A DRINK OF WATER WASN'T GOING TO HELP. SUZANNE AND I WERE IN A SECOND HAND SHOP ONCE, WHEN SHE SPIED A NICE VINTAGE CRAZY QUILT. IT WAS LATE 1800'S, AND DESPITE SOME HOLES THAT SHE COULD REPAIR, IT SEEMED A WORTHWHILE PURCHASE, ON A DAY THAT HADN'T TURNED UP MANY TREASURES. SHE TUGGED AT IT THREE TIMES, BEFORE SHE SET LOOSE TWO CHUNKS OF CAT POOP, AT THE SAME TIME AS A SCENT OF CAT URINE, AND THEN OUT OF THE WRAP, ROLLED THREE NEWBORN KITTENS. "WATCH FOR THE KITTENS IN THE QUILT," YELLED THE PROPRIETOR. SUZANNE TOOK ABOUT A HALF HOUR GETTING THOSE KITTENS BACK IN THE SAME POSITION, AS THEY WERE BEFORE THE UNRAVELLING, OF WHAT WE ASSUMED, WAS SHOP INVENTORY…..NOT A HABITAT FOR THE KITTEN KIND.
ANTIQUE DEALERS GET INVITED OUT A LOT. I REMEMBER ONCE, SHORTLY AFTER OPENING MY FIRST SHOP, IN BRACEBRIDGE, A GENTLEMAN ASKING IF I WOULD COME OVER TO HIS HOUSE TO SEE HIS COLLECTION OF FURNITURE HE WANTED TO SELL. AS I WAS JUST STARTING OUT, AND WE NEEDED INVENTORY, I FELT IT WAS A GOOD TIME TO GET FAMILIAR WITH THE "HOUSE CALL" PART OF THE ANTIQUE BUY AND SELL. IT WAS A BITTERLY COLD NIGHT, AND THE CAR GAVE ME TROUBLE ALL THE WAY. IT KEPT STALLING SO I FINALLY JUST PARKED IT ABOUT A BLOCK AWAY. I HAD INVITED MY GIRLFRIEND, AT THE TIME, TO COME WITH ME, AS SHE WAS PRETTY KNOWLEDGABLE ABOUT ANTIQUES. AND MOST IMPORTANT, SHE WOULD PINCH ME JUST ABOVE THE BELT, IF MY OFFER WAS GETTING TOO HIGH. IT WAS A NICE OLDER BRICK BUNGALOW, AND THE GENTLEMAN WAS ALREADY EXTENDING HIS HAND IN GREETING EVEN BEFORE WE GOT UP THE WALKWAY. HE INVITED US INTO A BEAUTIFULLY DECORATED LIVING-ROOM, AND INSTANTLY I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO BE EITHER AN EARLY-PROFESSION COUP, FOR ME, OR I WAS GOING HOME WITHOUT A SINGLE THING. THE SECOND SITUATION PREVAILED. I HAD FALLEN INTO A TRAP…..ONE OF THE OLDEST IN THE BOOK. I WAS THERE TO GIVE HIM A FREE APPRAISAL ON EVERYTHING. IT WAS JUST ONE OF THOSE EMBARRASSING SITUATIONS THAT, ONCE YOU GET INTO, THERE'S JUST NO EASY ESCAPE EXCEPT POSSIBLY VAPORIZING INTO A FINE DUST, SINKING DOWN INTO THE PLUSH CARPET. I WAS LOOKING AT A HOUSEHOLD COLLECTION THAT WOULD HAVE EASILY FETCHED TWENTY TO THIRTY THOUSAND AT AUCTION. I HAD ABOUT FIVE HUNDRED BUCKS. HEY, I HAD JUST GRADUATED UNIVERSITY, AND I WAS THE POOREST BLOKE TO EVER OPEN AN ANTIQUE SHOP……AND HAVE HIGH HOPES AT THE SAME TIME.
THE MAN HAD RECENTLY BECOME A WIDOWER AND WAS PLANNING TO SELL HIS HOUSE AND MOVE TO SOUTHERN ONTARIO. HE HAD MANY FINE ENGLISH ANTIQUES, INCLUDING CHINA, GLASS AND FINE ART, AND CONFESSED TO HAVING HAD A PASSION FOR ANTIQUES AS A YOUNG MAN. AND HE AND HIS WIFE HAD DONE PRETTY MUCH THE SAME AS MY GIRLFRIEND AND I, GALAVANTING ALL OVER THE PROVINCE IN QUEST OF NEAT PIECES. IF I HAD ASKED A FEW MORE QUESTIONS, OF THE MAN, WHEN HE CAME INTO THE SHOP, I WOULD HAVE KNOWN HE WAS VERY MUCH CONCERNED ABOUT GETTING THE FULL VALUE FOR HIS COLLECTION. IT WASN'T A CASE OF WISHING TO UNLOAD THE PIECES QUICKLY FOR WHATEVER PRICE I WAS WILLING TO OFFER. THE ONLY THING I WASN'T SURE ABOUT, WAS HOW THIS DANCE WAS GOING TO END. EVERY TIME I OFFERED AN APPRAISAL, HE'D PULL OUT A LITTLE NOTE-PAD, OR GO THROUGH AN OLD LEATHER BOUND BOOKLET, AND PULL OUT A RECEIPT, FROM WHEN THE SUBJECT PIECE WAS ACTUALLY PURCHASED, NOTING THE RETAIL PRICE AND THE ANTIQUE DEALER IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO, OR QUEBEC, WHO HAD SOLD IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT WAS LIKE BEING IN THE RING WITH GEORGE CHUVALO. EVERY TIME I GOT UP FROM THE FLOOR, HE'D SMILE AND KNOCK ME DOWN AGAIN, UNTIL MY GIRLFRIEND, ALL OF A SUDDEN, LIKE TAG-TEAM WRESTLING, STARTED TO DEFEND MY HONOR.
WELL, BY GOLLY, SHE BEGAN VERBALLY JABBING THE GUY, ASKING WHY IN THE WORLD HE HAD INVITED US OVER IN THE FIRST PLACE, KNOWING THAT WE COULD NEVER MATCH THE PRICES HE KNEW HE COULD GET, IF HE WENT TO A CITY DEALER (ONE WHO HAS A BIGGER MARKET PLACE THAN MINE, WHICH WAS SITUATED IN UPTOWN BRACEBRIDGE). APPARENTLY, AND WITHOUT ME KNOWING ABOUT IT, HE HAD SPENT CONSIDERABLE TIME LEERING AT HER, AND FOLLOWING HER CLOSELY FROM ROOM TO ROOM. HE SEEMED TO BE QUITE HAPPY TO HAVE US STAY AS LONG AS POSSIBLE, BUT I WAS SOON TO FIND OUT, HE HAD NO INTEREST IN ME, OR MY LOW-BALL OFFERS. (MY LOW BIDS WERE ACTUALLY THE ONLY BIDS I COULD MAKE). SHE KNEW IT WHAT HE WAS MOST INTERESTED IN, AND FELT UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT FIGURED THAT IT WOULDN'T HURT MY CHANCES OF GETTING SOME BUYS, IF WHEN PRESENTED AN OPPORTUNITY, TOOK A FEW CHEAP SHOTS HERSELF. SHE WASN'T KNOWN FOR THIS, BUT I APPRECIATED THE CAVALRY'S ADVANCE ON MY PRESENT TURMOIL. EVERY TIME THE GUY INSULTED ME, OR TRIED TO LOOK DOWN HER BLOUSE, SHE STUNG HIM WITH ZINGER ONE-LINER, AND AFTER AWHILE, HE RECOGNIZED HIS ADVANCES ON MY GIRLFRIEND WERE BEING COUNTER-PLAYED, SO HE TURNED ON ME INSTEAD. FINALLY, SHE GRABBED MY ARM, AND SAID, "WE'RE LEAVING NOW TED, BEFORE HE PINCHES MY BUM." I WAS SO CONSUMED BY SAVING FACE AS A FAILED ANTIQUE APPRAISER, THAT I HADN'T NOTICED THE CHAP HITTING ON HER. IT WASN'T UNTIL WE WENT OUT TO THE PUB, LATER THAN EVENING, THAT SHE TOLD ME HOW HE KEPT TRYING TO CORNER HER, AND BUMP INTO HER ACCIDENTALLY WHEN THEY WALKED SIDE BY SIDE. I WAS THE ONE IN DENIAL. HERE IT WAS MY FIRST FULL FLEDGED APPRAISAL OUTING, WITH SOME HOPES OF COMING HOME WITH A CUPBOARD OR NICE OAK TABLE, AND MY GIRLFRIEND HAD BEEN WITHIN A WHISKER OF BEING MOLESTED. WHAT A TOOL I WAS…..TO HAVE TAKEN HER ALONG IN THE FIRST PLACE, AND BEING SO WITHDRAWN FROM THE REALITY OF THE UNFORTUNATE SITUATION, THAT I COULDN'T SEE THAT SHE WAS BLUSHING; AND IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE HEAT IN THE ROOM.
THE HOME OWNER, INFORMED ME ON THE WAY OUT, THAT I WAS A CRAPPY ANTIQUE DEALER, AND I SHOULD CONSIDER ANOTHER PROFESSION. I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TO OFFER IN RETURN, BECAUSE I ASSUMED HE WAS RIGHT AND I WAS SERIOUSLY DEFICIENT. BUT IT WAS SORT OF LIKE LOSING THE GAME, AND THEN GETTING A SHOVEL FULL OF DUNG ON MY HEAD, UPON LEAVING THE MATCH. WHEN MY GIRLFRIEND REPORTED HOW HE HAD BEEN UNDRESSING HER WITH HIS PENETRATING GAZE, GEEZ, I SORT OF THOUGHT SHE WAS GOING TO HIT ME WITH A SHOVEL FULL OF DUNG AS WELL……FOR NOT ONLY BEING A TERRIBLE ROOKIE APPRAISER BUT AN EVEN WORSE BOYFRIEND. I OFFERED AN APOLOGY, AND PROMISED THAT I WOULD NEVER PUT HER IN SUCH A CIRCUMSTANCE EVER AGAIN. I WAS NOT A GOOD BOYFRIEND, BECAUSE THIS HAPPENED MANY TIMES AFTER THIS, AND FOR EVERY FEMALE PARTNER UP TO AND INCLUDING SUZANNE. SUZANNE IS MORE THAN CAPABLE OF SETTING AN INTRUSIVE ANTIQUE SELLER STRAIGHT, AND THAT HAS HAPPENED ON A FEW OCCASIONS. BUT THE PROBLEM IS, THERE ARE CIRCUMSTANCES WHEN THERE JUST ISN'T ANY CHOICE IN THE MATTER. THERE ARE DOZENS OF SITUATIONS WHEN THE FOLKS APPROACHING US, HAVE HIGH QUALITY MATERIALS FOR SALE, BUT CAN'T POSSIBLY HAUL THEM INTO THE SHOP. SO WE HAVE TO TAKE CHANCES WITH OUR VISITS, AND I MUST SAY, THE MAJORITY OF HOME TOURS OCCUR WITHOUT INCIDENT. THEY MAY BE UNCOMFORTABLE AND SMELLY, BUT THAT HAS BEEN THE EXTENT OF IT FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS NOW. WE'VE JUST GOT BETTER AT SCREENING THOSE FOLKS WHO WANT US TO VISIT. IF THEY START LOOKING THE DEALERS OVER, LIKE WE'RE GOING TO BE THE EVENING MEAL, OF THE SACRIFICIAL OFFERING TO THEIR GOD, WE POLITELY DECLINE, SUGGESTING WE HAVE WAREHOUSES FULL OF ANTIQUES TO CALL UPON IF WE GET LOW……BUT THANKS ANYWAY.
EVERYBODY WHO MAKES HOUSE CALLS HAS TO BE CAREFUL - IT'S COMMON SENSE
I had a customer many years ago, who was absolutely fascinating to talk with. She was smart, accomplished, knew a thing or two about antiques, and as I got to know her, appreciated the fact she had a wealth of knowledge about not only Canadian art, but any art, from anywhere on the globe. We talked for hours and hours, at that union of store-floor, and sales counter. She became in two years of steady business, the customer who gave us an opportunity to profit from a business that at best, was just breaking even, month after month.
Suzanne liked the fact I was selling so much stuff, but when she met the customer one afternoon, when I was out on a pick-up, she immediately detected an unsavory vibe that our customer was more interested in the sales clerk than filling her house with antiques. Not Suzanne, but me. The Austin Powers' clone. When Suzanne told me I was being hustled, I didn't know what she was referring to, and thought she must mean that I was giving too much in the way of discounts. As she explained however, the real discount she wanted, was my naked self running around her house…..while chasing me with an antique horse whip. Just supposing, because she never described her fantasy for me. You know how the mind plays tricks right? I just stared at her, with my chin attached to my chest, wondering how the hell this related to the fact our store invoice book was filling up nicely. "Are you blind Ted?" she demanded of her obviously senseless, naive husband. "Don't you get it? Why she now wants you to start delivering her purchases, when they'd fit easily in the back of her car?" I may have read something like this in a Playboy article, once or twice when I accidentally found the magazine (left by someone else), where I just happened to be sitting. But honestly, I never once read about a single voluptuous women, preying on an old crusty antique dealers. By the way, Suzanne called me old and crusty at thirty-five. You don't want to know what she calls me now. If there was an article, on such as thing, as the antique dealer and the single woman, how would that have played out in print anyway. I'm mean we're hardly of the sexual character, as a general overview of the males in our profession, reminiscent of the husky, shirtless gardener, or the tanned pool boy in tight shorts. We're not totally decrepit, but it just doesn't make for a good sex romp, to have a pine harvest table as a pivot in the story……or a Quebec pine cupboard, that we've just given ourselves a hernia, lifting off the truck. How attractive would it be to see a man's hernia bulging, or to see the ass ripped out of his pants, because of the failed dead lift of the vintage four compartment ice box, part of the same delivery. Well, sir, as far as being a sex toy, I had never once given that a bit of consideration. I was almost insulted. It just seemed ridiculous that an antique dealer would ever have this kind of spell on a client….or that we would be sought out for some sexual fantasy. It just doesn't seem part of the business heritage, its provenance from near Biblical times, and as God is my witness, I've read lots of biographies, in my days in the trade, and never once, even in an adult magazine, discovered that someone in our profession had become a boy toy. I haven't read many biographies of women dealers, so I can't say that it, the sexual component, doesn't happen equally in our industry……because in fact, as the little tome above points out, my girlfriend did feel very uncomfortable in the situation with the elderly gentleman……and I didn't catch that one either.
One afternoon, a month or so later, I came into the store and this particular customer was, at that moment, paying Suzanne for her purchases. Suzanne asked if I could carry the pieces out to her car, which I did for many of our customers…..although I did wonder if she was still concerned I might fall prey to her trickery. On that day I was covered, head to foot, with sawdust and detectable residue of varsol on my hands from a refinishing job; and my shirt was covered in varnish spots. Yea, I was a sexy beast all right. I carried the furniture up the stairs, and came down for several boxes of glassware. I was loading them in the van, when one of the boxes broke open, and I had to drop on one knee to make sure nothing was going to tumble onto the asphalt. To balance myself from rolling down the driveway, I put one hand on the bottom of the open door for a moment, until I could stand back up. All of a sudden, she lifted her leg, as if she was going to step into the vehicle, and landed her high heeled foot right on my hand. She didn't hurt me as such, but I was definitely compromised. I immediately twisted around, trying to figure out what was going on, and why my hand was fixed onto the body of her van. I saw her white shoe on my fingers, and hey, I did what any person would do, under similar circumstances. I looked up, and as the Friendly Giant used to say, "I looked way up…..I mean way, way up," and this was not a good or appropriate thing to do. She was wearing a short dress, and I don't need to offer any more information. The awkward part, other than the fact she observed me looking beneath her dress, was the fact I still couldn't move my hand, or get up, which pretty much destined that I was going to keep offending God and my marriage vows, because it was starting to hurt. When I told our business partner what had happened, he started to howl with laughter, then asking me to offer more details. I found out later, my partner's wife had issued him the same warning as Suzanne had given me, to cease and desist. Which made me mad because Suzanne had actually put me in this situation. Maybe it was accidental. I can't explain why, when she knew her shoe was on my fingers, she didn't lift up, but then maybe she was daydreaming about something else…….maybe a date with her real boyfriend.
After I had seen all I needed to see, and looked like a numb-nuts hunched in the parking lot, with a woman holding my hand down with her foot, I was gradually able to free my fingers from the leather sole, and shift myself back to a position that I could actually stand again. She smiled and invited me to drop out to the house any time. No fooling. She was really hitting on me. Here I've got paint chips in my eyebrows, and a trucker's hat with visible sweat lines, and most certainly the odor of a furniture refinisher in all his glory, and she wants me to visit. Now, in all fairness, maybe this was just mind over matter. Maybe I was "fancying myself," a big catch in a little pond. I don't remember now. Possibly it had been an accident that she stepped on my hand. Maybe she lost her balance for a moment, and my hand leveled things out for her. I can't really explain why she wouldn't lift her shoe, seeing my pinched fingers and all, but the customer's always right…….right? So Suzanne and I have had this discussion many times in the past, about what the incident was all about. My customer by the way, never returned to our shop after this incident. Maybe she was mad that I had taken advantage of my position on the ground, to look up her dress, and this made me an unsavory, overly horny antique dealer. I don't know. Was I just a naive guy who couldn't see the forest for the trees…..or is that the tree for the forest. This wasn't an isolated case in my early years as an antique dealer, and I've got a few more stories to share…..that make you wonder…….are antique dealers hot or what?
Thanks so much for sharing your time today. My years in the antique profession have been full of adventures, far beyond the buying and selling highlights. There have been many adventures and many more misadventures, I plan to share, considering this is my swan song biography. I have no final chapter in mind, so I'll just keep regaling you with hopefully interesting stories. Watch for the freezing rain coming to Muskoka in the next twenty-four hours. What a wild winter this is turning out to be…….and here we thought we were going to be growing palm trees this winter.
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