The man in the orange lawn chair just smiled.

Between us lay an assortment of items that could be said to be antiques only by virtue of age, not of value. Typical flea market fare.

"Got some nice glassware over there," he said pointing to the side of his booth. "It's green." His teeth had a similar tint.

"No thanks. I'm just browsing."

He just nodded and smiled, sucking on an extinguished pipe. His booth was littered with stuff, but at least it was interesting stuff. Not like the several NASCAR booths or the sweet old ladies selling unidentifiable baked goods. Here was a small plastic elephant with a monkey on it's back. There was set of three brass goblets with the likenesses of the three stooges. An old iron bank showed a horse that would rear up and drop the coin inside when you pulled the lever.

"Everything's five dollars on this table." He was addressing the two young women who had stopped to look at the stuffed owl that menaced the rest of the table. They smiled weakly and moved on.