During my previous trip to Orlando, my big request was to go to some garage sales; unfortunately there were very few. Brewier and I did stumble across a small sale, with no other customers, and a, "free," box at the end of the driveway. Brewier made that box his first stop, as I walked up to the garage and greeted the homeowner. She was about Brewiers age, and very friendly, and I noticed she had something in her hand. She sided up to me, and showed me a swiss army, style knife. "Want to buy a knife?" she inquired; she had quite a few of them. I asked her how much they were, and when she told me that the price was a dollar, I bought one. She looked sidelong at Brewier and asked me, "So, do you think you'll out live him?" "Um...well, yeah," I replied. She then whispered conspiratorially to me, "Well, then, you need to buy a bunch of these." Puzzled, I asked why. "Well," she winked as she whispered, "I hear there's nothing a young man won't do for a knife."
So now I'm stuck, trying to figure out where to store this case of knives.