The owner of the box was busy with other customers, but it was sitting out on the table and I opening it up.  It had clearly been hauled from show to show repeatedly over a period of years or decades, because the cardboard was soft and barely able to stand upright.  It was probably 9" tall and divided into 12 partitions, each about 2-1/2" square.  Most of them contained glass, some two deep, stuffed one on top of each other with grubby crumpled tissue paper tucked around them for protection.  Since the cardboard no longer looked like cardboard and the paper had seen better days, the grid of glass looked for all the world like an incubation chamber created by a large silicon-based insect.  I pulled them out one by one.  All were filthy and most were dose glasses, but there were a few shots in there and a couple I could use.   The prices on them were not unreasonable but higher than I was comfortable paying, so I hmmmmed and hrrrred for a while.  Andy seems to have been expecting some kind of kick-back from the owner, because he maintained a constant stream of encouragement to buy everything I was looking at!  Not that I ever need encouragement to buy shots, but reinforcement is always good.

But I was concerned about the strength of the labels - the glasses were so grungy that it was difficult to tell was kind of condition they were in and most of them looked weak.  I was about to walk away from the table when the owner looked over and said he'd like to sell them as a box lot and "would give me a deal".  Quelle surprise!  (that's French for "duh", just in case you missed Le Frog 101).  I did the math on the deal: even if I sold all the doses, I'd barely break even on this one.  Andy's urging to buy was now reaching fever pitch and I ultimately caved and forked over a fistful of $20s.

After I'd got the glasses home, I disinterred and washed them and felt instant pangs of buyer's remorse.  There were actually more glasses in the box than the owner had thought, but the bonus glasses were dose glasses also.  The shots were not in the greatest condition, which is shame because there were a few relatively rare ones in the mix. 

By 8 pm I was about ready to head back up the road to Philly.  The show room was already growing quiet as the dealers headed out for dinner or their motels and it was unlikely that I'd find anything else worth speaking of.  But -- on the final sweep of the room --I ran across a choice little barrel glass. It was a Pennsylvania Chief from Broudy & Co. of  South Fork, PA.   I jumped on it and checked the rim - sweet!  But there was no price on it and the owner had already left!  Well damn.  I ruefully replaced it on the table and made a mental note to get back early the next day to pick it up.