top of page
Christopher Maffei, Owner & Operator
Road-worn peddlers from Georgetown exacted a deal. Their wares: several boxes of magazines, paperbacks, photographs (all risque in nature). Men sought to profit from these flea market regulars: pinup magazines, mid-century erotic novels (4-letter words not yet rampant), and an album of old photos of nude women, some draped in robes or lingerie, others stark naked.
It was an alluring scrapbook in decent condition, the only item in the lot the Boss needed.
Brokering the deal was an apprentice already eyeing the loot: women on magazine covers, bright yellow & pink gleaming paperbacks the collection's apparent majority. The apprentice had seen pornographic magazines, generally one at a time (more in dire times), but never so many in one place at so readily obtainable opportunity. He and the Boss agreed to buy the collection together, Boss shelling the capital, the apprentice to repay. After inquiring the salesmen what they'd hoped to gain, the apprentice made the peddlers an offer. "Two G's" one peddler said, presumably the leader of the two greased-pants men. "Tell you what," said the apprentice, relaying his dance around numbers, condition of the items, market values, "we can do thirteen hundred." Begrudged of their travel expenses, broken backs, dirty faces, the peddlers settled for the sum, slowly gathering the strength for the next lowballer. The pair were not seen again, but the photo album made good.
I am grateful to have been an apprentice.
bottom of page