My dad has all these old comics and toys and crap from the 80s and 90s that he always says are valuable. What I knew was that growing up, it used to piss me off that I couldn’t ever take any of that stuff out of the box. Every now and then he’d sell something. Mostly, other older guys would come and look and they’d talk and they’d leave empty handed.
So, a few months after I graduate high school and I’m thinking about spending the rest of my life in this shitty little town, working at the truckstop, squeezing out kids, and a car pulls into the driveway. A nice car. I watch the guy get out. Middle aged, thick around the middle, thinning hair, but not bad looking. Mostly, I noticed his shoes. Around here, guys wear sneakers or boots. He was wearing black leather dress shoes. He and dad went into the back room where all the toys are, and I went into my room and put on my shortest skirt and tightest tank top. I made myself up and then grabbed a popsicle.