Milton and the $5 lamp

It really ties the room together

So I'm on my way to my buddies fishing tournament yesterday listening to the Racer X podcast, drinking a gnarly mug of fog cutter coffee and just generally enjoying life, when I spot a sweet floor lamp at a grange hall yard sale. I've been looking for an old iron floor lamp for a while and this one looked pretty cool, from 50 feet away and 30 miles per hour. So, In keeping with yard sale etiquette, I hammer the E-brake on the "150", pitching the truck sideways into a sweet tire smoking slide and come to rest next to the curb Ace Ventura style. I hop out ready to do some serious haggling at my first yard sale of the season. I walk up to the hall giving the good morning shake to some of the old timers setting up for the day when I see Milt. I didn't remember his name at first, but after talking to him for a second and asking him if we'd met before, I remembered where I had seen him. Milt's the neighbor of my buddy, Phil, who's tournament I was heading to. And just about the coolest guy you'd ever want to meet.  With that figured out, I asked him if he was fishing the tourney today. "Nope, helping out with the sale today. But I'll be over for the barbecue later." All said with that cool, been there done that, don't really give two shits attitude that only the real Maine old timers can seem to pull off. "Nice man, hope to see you there. How much for this floor lamp over here?" I ask.
For the sake of realism I'll format this like an interview from here on out.
Milt: Five bucks.
Me: Done, Ill take it. (No haggling needed. Running into Milt and getting a sweet floor lamp was well worth five bucks.)
Milt: Can't sell it to ya yet. Not 'till eight o clock.
Me: Huh? (I check my phone. It's 7:30) Uh, why not?
Milt: The ladies won't let me. (If you know, or don't know how these things work. "The ladies" he's referring to are the old timers' wives who organize all the events. The yard sales, bean suppers etc. And you DON'T mess with them or you will get the hairy eyeball).
 Me: well I'm already running late and I probably won't get back here before you're wrapped up. Is there any way we can make this work?
Milt: I'll buy it for you and bring it to the barbecue later.
Me: Great Milt, thanks.
Milt: Uh, I don't have 5 bucks on me.
Me: I'll give you the 5 bucks. (Now we've come full circle and I'm back to not getting the lamp without waiting around for half an hour.)
Without a word Milt looks around for the "ladies". With all of them being inside, he  picks up the lamp and starts walking towards my truck across the street. So I follow him feeling like I've been dropped into the Western Maine version of the yard sale Twilight zone. At this point we're both checking over our shoulders for the "Ladies", hoping we both get away with what's turning out to be the best and hardest to purchase lamp in the Northeast. We make it to the other side of the street without incident, and proceed with the transaction.
Me: They don't mess around Huh?
Milt: You have no idea.
Not wanting to get Milt(or myself) in trouble I put the lamp in the back of the truck as craftily as I can. With the lamp in  the bed and under cover I give Milt, what, in the end, turns out to be the best 5 bucks I think I've ever spent on anything. I thank him for his trouble and tell him I hope to see him at the derby. The derby was a good time. Everyone caught fish, ate dogs and burgers and talked some serious smack. But without a doubt, the highlight of the day was buying what I now consider Milt's floor lamp. Thanks for reading.