I am persistent. It is one of my greatest strengths...and also my greatest weakness. Sometimes it pays off and sometimes it does not. Several years ago it paid off in a big way, one that I will always remember...and cherish.
My boyfriend, Ric and I, are huge baseball fans. We have made it a point to go to as many Colorado Rockies games as our budget...and my schedule...have allowed in recent years. Because we are a thrifty couple, we park blocks from Coors Field, where the Rockies play, and walk our way to the stadium. We try to justify it as good exercise, but it is free and that matters a bit more than health.
On our route to Coors Field there stood a neighborhood liquor store. I'm not sure what caused us to visit this store 6 years ago but something did. Maybe the fact that they had little cans of Coors Light beer for 50 cents each? Perhaps. At any rate, 7 or 8 times a season, starting 6 years ago, we went to this liquor store and bought two of the .50 beers on the way...and two on the way back. It had become a tradition for us, one that we cherished.
Slowly we got to know the owner, Scott, and his right-hand man, Barry. Every once in awhile they would give us a free beer or a free shot of tequila. They became on a first-name basis with us as we had with them.
There was a certain Denver Broncos neon in the window, one that had the old Broncos logo, that Ric admired from the very first time we visited the store. All it took was for him to say he would really like to have it...and it was game on for me. I was determined, from the first time Ric mentioned he wanted it, to get it for him and I told him of such plans. He laughed it off, saying it would never happen.
When I first inquired about it, Scott said he had gotten it from a distributor and had signed some sort of agreement saying he would never sell it or take it down or anything else. To me, this did not matter. To me, this was a challenge...one that I was undoubtedly up for.
Fast forward. Days and months and years went by. At least four times a month we would visit the store, once on our way to the game and once on our way back to our car. Four times a month, I would ask, plead, beg, without fail, what it would take for Scott to sell, or better yet, give the Denver Broncos neon to me. I came up with every argument possible. I said everything I could. I gave it my all. On more than one occasion Ric told me to just give up. But I guess he didn't know me much after all these years. I was determined.
Then on one fateful day, it all, finally, came together. Scott, the man who owned the store and who had become almost like family to us, had sold the store. While Barry still worked there, a new owner named Josh had taken over. He was younger than hell and just as naïve. I gave HIM my spiel, which he had never heard. I said we were regulars (which was true, but we only spent a few dollars each visit) and said we would continue to be so (which was also true). He asked how much I would like to spend. At first I said 100, then backpedaled to 50. I really wanted it for free, but even I knew THAT would be pushing it. I needed to be happy with the fact that he was even entertaining the idea when, for years, Scott had closed the door over and over again. He said he would think about it...and we made our way to the game.
On the way back, my mind raced with expectation. I just knew this was it; I knew that my persistence and my pleading and my praying would surely turn out paying off. And guess what? It did! Josh agreed to part with an item that we saw as priceless, but that he could put a price on. He said $100 and I balked, once again saying I would pay $50. He needed reassurance that we would be his best customers; I assured him.
Moments later we walked out of the store with our prized possession: one that surely meant more than anything we owned because it took YEARS to acquire. We were floating on air. Well, I was. Ric rarely gets excited about anything, but I knew he was happy. We walked for blocks with our treasure, my eyes darting left and right, looking for would-be thieves. As we walked, I silently prayed, "please, God, please, do not let anyone accost us and take this. It has taken me way too long to acquire it." As we walked, onlookers admired our possession, making comments like "lucky" and "sweet" as we quickly made our way to our car. This is, after all, Bronco country. At any moment I expected people to bow down and cross themselves, citing past Super Bowl victories and John Elway as motivation.
Finally we arrived at our car. I breathed a HEAVY sigh of relief as Ric put our neon in the back seat. We laughed all the way home; I did a bit of crying and thanking God, over and over.
Today this neon holds a special place above our fireplace, on our mantle, and is turned on before each and every Broncos game. I guess you could say it is our good luck charm, though we don't believe in luck. Even so, it is one of the best things we have in our home, not because of what it cost or because of its worth. It's because it holds years of memories...none of which a price tag can ever, ever be placed on.
Persistence
