But that tape wasn't destined to been mine upon getting giddy seeing the names of Enzo G. Castellari and Franco Nero. No, before I could even ask, I heard a voice loudly bark "They're SOLD." There he was, Mr. Asshole buying the whole lot. I've talked about Mr. Asshole, proprietor of Videoland, before with The Deep End of Horror and the A-Hole Video Dealer. Most of this entry detailing dealer annoyances is also modeled from encounters with this rude prick. Certainly one of the most disrespectful human beings I've ever had the unfortunate luck to met with ludicrously expensive prices on even the most average videos ($13 for Fried Green Tomatoes...huh?).
I inquired about origins of the apple crates of tapes. Apparently, Mr. Asshole had lived in an apartment of sorts in the unseen second story of the swap meet's ex-department store building. The trinket seller moved in and Mr. Asshole left stacks of tapes...everywhere. Cry Onion and a bunch of other great tapes were the ones that know-it-all deemed worthless. I had no idea what happened to Mr. Asshole until he recently surfaced again at another swap meet. Looking through his tapes, while his multiple cameras looked at me, nothing really interesting or of value caught my eye. Years later, I ended up with some gems of his collection that he willingly let slip through his fingers. That's what you get for being an asshole...