The auction house is also home to things you may not have seen for many years. (Or never, if you're young. What? You're young? Way to rub my face in it. Thanks.) I saw an old cigarette machine this last time. Remember cigarette machines? It used to be--back before anyone cared about things like that--pretty easy for kids like me to buy cigarettes from the drug store, but once in a while, there would be someone your mom knew in the store, shopping or something. So you couldn't get them there. Then, you'd have to go to a restaurant and buy your cigs from a machine.
Fifty cents (a nickel more than buying them at the drug store) and a pull on the lever and you would have your Marlboro reds. Easy peasy.
Listen, I'm not condoning smoking at all. Especially not by children. Those of you who have met me personally know that I am very anti-smoking. But, what can I say? It was a different time. It was my childhood. So the cigarette machine was kind of a fond/sad reminder of that.
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