The Godfather

4:03pm: It's raining out and only getting worse. I'm posting apt flyers around the central Hispanic corridor of Hartford, CT. In the process of posting I always end up talking to a lot of business owners. But today, one, in particular, stands out from the rest.

Heading to my car, I pass by a store front I've driven by a thousand times before. Something's different this time. Against my traditional mindset, I turn around, ask for the owner, and end up following him into a musty old sub-street level storage shop.

Step inside and it's like another world. Blank, grey walls stacked high with random antiques, coins, jewels, and paintings. Then there, in the middle of it all, a thin old man in a chair. If not so animated at the sound of my voice, I'd have never even see him amongst the items. Like a mechanical fortune teller at a circus he comes alive with stories. I come in to talk apt referrals with the owner, I end up mesmerized by this retired jeweler/banker/car salesman/one-time millionaire who speaks 5 languages and claims possession of antique objects dating back before the birth of Christ.

Could I even make this stuff up?

An hour later and he's still showing me items from his collection. I'm on my way to the door as he continues... "I never told you... I'm a fortune teller you know."

Priceless.