tuffstuf:

A beautifully rendered pencil portrait of Harrison Ford circa Bladerunner sat on a shelf of a Goodwill on Hawthorne Boulevard. I stood before it, ecstatic. If this had been any other Goodwill in the city, he would have been mine. I would be cradling him in my arms right now. But this was the Goodwill Boutique, the place where Goodwill sends all its “good stuff.” Just like any other Goodwill, most of the stuff is garbage, but every once in a while, there’s a gem. There was a gem that day. His name was Harry, and he was smiling.

They must have known what they had, because the price tag said the drawing was fifteen dollars. Fair. Totally Reasonable. Like an idiot, I decided to act like an adult. I told myself that I’m at a point in my life when I don’t have money to spend on joke art pieces. Obviously, it wasn’t a joke, but I had to convince myself it was. 

Knowing that the drawing existed would have to be enough. I took a picture and slowly backed away. It hurt, but the experience felt like a tiny victory. I was able to respect the difference between need and want. I walked out the door more a man than I had ever been.

Three beers later, the want became a need. I put on a pair of pants and bolted out the door. I walked quickly, but I knew in my heart that it would still be there, because who would buy such a dumb thing. Such an amazingly dumb thing. My amazingly dumb thing.

I’d forgotten that I no longer live in a city of reasonable human beings. I live in Portland, where everyone is just like me.

When I got to the store, it was gone.