The Extraordinarily Queer Transaction of a Stratocaster (2)
You talking selling or auction? I’d do auction my damn self. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be selling it. Your call though. I’ve been playing my 1971 SG for what, something like fifteen years now? I’ll be damn if I give that thing up. And you really want to sell?â?
Scott was amazed that someone would actually want to give this up. It’s like Zappa giving up Hendrix’s Miami Pop guitar or Clapton giving up Blackie. But here he was, standing in his guitar shop on Broad Street, and this pudgy chump waiting for his appraisal of the instrument. The more time he spent in the presence of this piece of art, the more he felt like one of those queers on that antiques show on PBS . He could see himself with those white gloves on gliding his fingers across the body as he discussed to potential payoff with some naive heir. He couldn’t wait to tell someone about this one.
The customer had begun slowly making his way around the shop, idly examining amplifiers, string sets, whatever happened to catch his eye.