Sam Konlin was an intense man who made a living picking up ‘BAR GAINS’ at rummage sales, thrift shops and estate sales. He was also a borderline alcoholic who used his profits to quench his thirst. His goal was to intermingle with his customers who were tavern tramps that had a vast array of interests and hobbies and needed ‘stuff’ at affordable prices. Sam’s sauce intake was a carefully measured formula that he had mastered over the years. He ran the ridge between holding out for the big bucks (sober) or giving it away (drunk). Entering a yard sale, Sam had a mental inventory of his customer’s wishes and their financial barometers. He raced through the displays, sometimes elbowing his way to a table that had that specific item that Tom, Ellen or Pete were interested in and on occasion pulled it from a competitor’s hand. Stories have circulated about how Sam and a stranger wrestled in the mud over an antique GI JOE plastic soldier at a county fair booth that brought in state troopers from 4 districts. Embellished tales have no limits. Mr. Konlin’s property looked like a time capsule that exploded as a multitude of obscure items were scattered everywhere. Attempting to purchase only items Sam could flip quick, he was also a sucker at the closing times of estate sales when all the contents that never got a bid were auctioned off for a lump sum. Sam often filled 7 pickup trucks of junk for $90 and dragged it home for safe keepings. It was to be sorted when sober and explains the heaps of manufactured waste laying around. Sam Konlin always had a strategy for winning a bid at the estate sale auctions. He entered into collusion with the other local wheeler dealers and when a prized estate drew in the big buck boys from outside the area, Sam kicked it into plan B. The night before the auction, he would go to the local watering hole and down 6 Guinness beers and 9 pickled eggs. When the auction took place, Sam would gather in the middle and drop his ass.