In my senior year of college, I married my best friend. He was a graduate student on a stipend so we had little money. I had saved $15.00 for his one Christmas present and hoped to find a vintage coffee grinder with which he could grind the fresh roasted coffee beans he preferred.
I had had no luck and now it was Christmas Eve and I was taking one last walk in and out of shops in the antiques district of Baltimore.
I queried each proprietor and they invariably said I’d have to look myself so I went all the way to the back of each shop, tiptoeing to see on top of tall shelves laden with stuff, peering under tables and into dark corners, even peeking into “staff only” areas. No luck.
