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<p>[QUOTE=&quot;fiatfiasco, post: 1906881, member: 67957&quot;]When I first started collecting, there was a very eccentric lady who was a B&amp;M dealer of coins and antiques in town. The first time I walked into her shop, this one particular CC Morgan shined so brightly as to distinguish itself as the only coin in the room. I walked over to it and fell in love. I inquired as to how much it was, and she said,</p><p><br /></p><p>&quot;It is for sale, but not for money.&quot; </p><p><br /></p><p>I was slightly confused, as I did not have anything of barter value that would come close to its &quot;price&quot;. She said if I wanted the coin, that I should follow her into the back room. Being young, trusting and ignorant, I followed her into the back room. </p><p><br /></p><p>Once in the small room, she flicked a switch that turned off the lights while simultaneously asking,</p><p><br /></p><p>&quot;How badly do you want this Carson City Morgan?&quot; </p><p><br /></p><p>I was scared, and excited at the same time. I told her I would do ANYTHING for the coin, and as the 3 syllables of &quot;anything&quot; crossed my lips, a shiver ran up my spine. Out of nowhere, she was right in front of me and leaned in close, almost whispering in my ear, </p><p>&quot;What can you do with this?&quot; </p><p><br /></p><p>Suddenly, something moist and soft was thrust into my chest. Panic hit me like a train. The lights quickly flipped on and I saw myself holding the business end of a mop.</p><p><br /></p><p>&quot;Three weeks work, after school, from 3pm-630pm, and the coin is yours. You can start by mopping the front, and then collecting the trash&quot;</p><p><span style="color: #ffffff">YOU ARE ALL SOME PERVERTS, WHERE DID YOU THINK THIS WAS GOING?!?</span>[/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>

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