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In 1975 I bought a coffin from the Rocky Mountain Casket Company in Montana. I installed some shelves for equipment and records and placed it on the showroom floor of our store thinking that someone might be cool enough to buy it.
No one was cool enough.
The really funny thing was that while it was being transported in the back of my van I stopped for a beer. I met this little honey who wanted some oo-la-la right away and neither of our places was close enough. The van was the most convenient alternative. We just opened the lid of the coffin and . . .
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