Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 1997/03/08
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]>>Gosh Ben, >>An ex-stockbroker holed up in the mountains of Colorado with 11 >>Kalishnikovs -- Do you know something the rest of should know? No doubt the >>" artist" was just a cover story. 8^) >> >In defense I have to explain that I inherited ALL 11 of them from an uncle >who we thought would one day take over a KMart or something. None of them >have ever been fired. It's really a very valuable collection in that I have >an example (up to 3) of every one imported to the US. The most unusual is >the Egyptian Maadi. All laminated wood, and as close to the Soviet AK as has >ever been built. I also have one from Finland. Very pretty. > >I suggest, however, that one calls ahead before showing up at my house late >at night. Between the doberman's and the arsenal it could get ugly. > >,/8^) [The swinging door creaks open and the tall stranger comes into the bar, shielding the camera hanging around his neck as he does. He goes to the bar.] BARFLY: Well, lookee here what the cat done drug in! Whatcha call that piece of crap hanging off your neck, stranger? STRANGER: Why, friend, that's an M3 Leica with a 50mm f/2 Summicron. BARFLY: Sheeee-it! You call that a camera. Lookee here at my Contax and drool, pilgrim! [The Stranger ignores the taunt and sips his orange juice.] BARFLY: What might be your name, stranger? STRANGER: I used to be known as Ben. BARFLY: Uhhhh, not "The artist formerly known as Ben"? STRANGER: That's me. BARFLY: Well, uh, you wouldn't be related to that "Kalashnikov Holmes" hombre, would you? STRANGER: I'm the man. BARFLY: Listen, Mr. Ben, I don't know what got into me just now! Musta been the booze! I'm right sorry about that crack about that fine camera you're wearin.' This here Contax piece-a-poop cain't hold a candle to it! No sir! I'll just toss it here in the spitoon, see? Can I maybe buy you a drink, sir? Please? [The tall stranger finishes his orange juice and leaves the bar without answering the trembling barfly standing there in his damp overalls.]