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lowend1:
I ionce placed an ad in a local musicians rag for a Jazz Bass and 1x15" combo. When the guy showed up at my house I sensed that he was a little goofy, but not threatening or anything. After deciding he wanted both pieces, he took out his checkbook and started to write. I told him that there was no way I was taking a check, but that there was an ATM up the block. Upon hearing that, he got very nervous and began farting uncontrollably (I'm not kidding). Shortly thereafter, he beat a hasty retreat and I never heard from him again.

On another note, a good friend of mine had the task of liquidating his place of work after the owner had a stroke. He ran an ad with a bunch of audio visual gear in the Want Ad Press, a legendary Jersey classified publication back in the day. He took a call from a kindly old gent named Red, who showed up wearing a hat and dark glasses, accompanied by his middle aged son. They looked over a bunch of stuff and told him they would let him know. A couple weeks later, he got a call saying that they wanted everything and that the son would pick it up at my friend's home. At that point "Red" revealed that he was in fact, Les Paul, and that anytime my friend and his family wanted to go to Fat Tuesdays (or later, to the Iridium) he had a personal invite from Les. He also told him that the next time he wanted a Les Paul (coincidentally, my friend owns several) that he should call and "get one from the man himself". Unfortunately, he never got to take Les up on that.

Dave W:

--- Quote from: lowend1 on February 18, 2018, 07:55:41 AM ---I ionce placed an ad in a local musicians rag for a Jazz Bass and 1x15" combo. When the guy showed up at my house I sensed that he was a little goofy, but not threatening or anything. After deciding he wanted both pieces, he took out his checkbook and started to write. I told him that there was no way I was taking a check, but that there was an ATM up the block. Upon hearing that, he got very nervous and began farting uncontrollably (I'm not kidding). Shortly thereafter, he beat a hasty retreat and I never heard from him again.

On another note, a good friend of mine had the task of liquidating his place of work after the owner had a stroke. He ran an ad with a bunch of audio visual gear in the Want Ad Press, a legendary Jersey classified publication back in the day. He took a call from a kindly old gent named Red, who showed up wearing a hat and dark glasses, accompanied by his middle aged son. They looked over a bunch of stuff and told him they would let him know. A couple weeks later, he got a call saying that they wanted everything and that the son would pick it up at my friend's home. At that point "Red" revealed that he was in fact, Les Paul, and that anytime my friend and his family wanted to go to Fat Tuesdays (or later, to the Iridium) he had a personal invite from Les. He also told him that the next time he wanted a Les Paul (coincidentally, my friend owns several) that he should call and "get one from the man himself". Unfortunately, he never got to take Les up on that.

--- End quote ---

Great story (the Les Paul one, not the farting one). In the 30s Les went under the names Rhubarb Red and Red Hot Red.

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