When my friends asked me if I wanted to attend a Chippendale show with them, I naturally assumed they meant we would be going to a Disney review featuring those wacky cartoon chipmunks Chip and Dale.

“No, no,” said my friend. “Not Chip and Dale. Chippendale!”

Ah, I thought, it must be an auction of antique Chippendale furniture. This might be interesting.

May I say that I have never seen a group of women get so worked up over the chance to bid on some old furniture. Neither did I realize that a furniture auction was an occasion to consume copious amounts of alcohol. Go figure.

In the dim light and rowdy atmosphere, it was hard to tell if the rickety chair in the spotlight was genuine Chippendale, especially with that scantily dressed young man, who I guess was the auctioneer, gyrating and undulating all over it. He also was sweating all over the goods. Meaning the chair, of course.

Many of the drunken women in the crowd so coveted the chair that they rushed onto the stage and tucked their bids for the chair into the auctioneer’s tiny costume. The chair must have been a real bargain since most of the bids I could see peeking out of his costume were singles.

I went onto the stage to get a better look. At the chair, I mean.

I suspected it was not genuine Chippendale. Still, it was well worth the fifty-dollar bill I tucked into the young man’s sweaty g-string. I don’t know why he seemed so ticked off when I picked up the chair and walked off with it.

The chair needed stripping and refinishing, and I found a local business called “Quick Stripping.” When I dropped off the chair, I told the proprietor, “Show me some of your best work.”

It turned out she did not know anything about furniture stripping; she just could remove all her clothing in less than 30 seconds, which was of no use to me. She did give me $75 for the chair, which she plans to use in her act. This left me with a $25 profit.

Still, there ought to be a law against misrepresenting your business.

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