A twenty dollar bill is the boring answer, so let me tell you about the chair. Somebody left a mid century modern armchair on a curb with a sign that said FREE, GOOD CHAIR, NO BUGS. I have never trusted a stranger more. Three of those words were doing enormous work.

I carried it eleven blocks because I was young and had something to prove to nobody. It weighed roughly as much as a piano. By block six I was making noises. By block nine I was negotiating with the chair.

It sat in my living room for six years. People asked where I got it and I would say a designer showroom in a tone that implied receipts. Nobody ever checked.

The best street finds are not the valuable ones. They are the ones with a story attached and a previous owner who cared enough to promise you there were no bugs.