I picked up a really great vintage steel case desk a while back, and although I love her I just can't hang onto her. I made this post on the Los Angeles Craigslist, hoping to find her a new home. Enjoy :-)
1940's -1950's Noir Style Detective's Desk
Of all the lists in all the world, she had to walk into Craig's. It was a dark and stormy night, no scratch that, it was a bright and sunny winter's day in California. The groundhog had already seen his shadow back east but you'd never know that here. On a day like that day, if old Punxsutawney Phil had been an Angeleno, he would have been down on the Santa Monica Pier saying "Hey buddy, pass the sunscreen.". It was bright alright, the kind of day that makes it hard to be a Noir Detective like myself. Our lot prefers the dark back rooms of dive bars where we can ruminate a case over a case of the hard stuff if you know what I mean. But here I was, up before noon and on my way to the local greasy spoon for a cheap cup of coffee and some runny eggs when out of nowhere I saw her. At first I thought it was the sun in my eyes, creating an apparition of classic beauty, but now I know it was the real thing. We modern types are so unaccustomed to the real thing, it takes a while for us to understand that things used to be built to last. This Dame was one of those things.
There she was, 150 pounds of pure American Beauty. They don't make em like her anymore, that's for sure. She had more dangerous curves than Mulholland Drive, but she wasn't about to slow down any time soon. She was cool as steel, didn't flinch an inch to my uncouth scrutiny (what can I say, I couldn't help but stare). She wasn't a little thing, she was built like a Sherman Tank and had a look that meant business; I could tell she was about to tread all over my heart but I was defenseless against her prowess. All I wanted to do was get a look in those drawers before she broke my heart. We had one hell of a fling.
Eventually she told me all she wanted was a nice little place to call home. A place that was safe and sound. I could feel my heart strings being tugged. I wanted to promise those things but I knew I couldn't follow through. The life of a private Dick is anything but safe and sound. I didn't think I'd be the heart breaker but I had to let her go. I know she's out there somewhere looking for her safe haven. Heaven knows she deserves it. Maybe our paths will cross someday, maybe they won't but I'll always know that what we had was the real thing.
