Remember that time when you were 10, and thought it would be a great day to abandon your burgeoning trombone career by hammering pens and a golf tee down the slide, rendering it pretty much a useless piece of brass? Or later that day, when you decided that if you wanted to be a professional golfer, you had no need for the “plastic” balls with holes in them and instead should only practice with real golf balls, and launched your first tee shot that actually made it out of the front yard across the street and with one bounce, through the neighbors 4×8 foot glass pane window and into your neighbor’s lap?

Or how about that time when you were 19, in an act of great defiance, when your mother went out of town for a “business” trip, you decided it would be awesome to borrow her car and drive 12 hours to New Orleans with your girlfriend, only to have your mom find pictures of said epic trip and really try hard to explain how you couldn’t understand how the odometer was not working and in fact, seemed to be permanently disabled?

No? Too long ago and 3 decades of intense therapy erased those memories? How about that 4th of July 3 years ago where Jr shot a roman candle into your neighbors brand new corvette, thus requiring both station 45 & 46 sending out their largest, loudest firetrucks to keep the neighborhood from burning down?

I get it, none of us are perfect. Hell, I may have even personally experienced 2 out of the three above, and many many more stories that no one had a film of so I will go to the afterlife emphatically stating that it must have been my twin brother or something. On a side note, show of hands for all that are grateful NOT growing up in the social media age? Yeah, thought so…

Well, after about a dozen heart-felt apologies, you are just plumb-ass out of luck, right? It becomes like Bill Clinton Apologizing for his “little indiscretions” to the point that no one really cares anymore. Or like George Bush Apologizing for starting 2 wars over bad intelligence on WMD…wait…actually I don’t remember that one, so I will go on now. Anywho, there are just some things that apologizing and mowing lawns for a summer for free, or paying off a trombone with your allowance for 2 and a half years just doesn’t quite cut it. Yes, you can replace Cars, windows, musical instruments and such, but trust…how to you replace lost trust?

Well, a set of 4 Hand Cut Waterford Lismore Tall Wine Glasses of course, and circa 1989 specifically is a straight up guarantee. As luck would have it, I have lived out my life (and many future lives) of blundering and pretty much Dennis the Menacing the neighborhood and have no more need to apologize for anything I do, and out of the 14 cases of these beauties that I originally had to order when I found the power they actually held, I have 4 crystal stems left, so it is your lucky day.

Now for the fun part. 14 cases of Waterford Lismore Wine glasses would have set you back about 15 grand back in the day, and that is no shit there. Even today, they sell the new ones for about 50-90 bucks a stem, so even if I ask for the paltry sum of $50.00 you are making out like a bandit. Even if you wanted to pick them up and re-sell them yourself for at least double that because you have time on your hands and are not trying to empty your house in the next 13 days so you can start a worldschooling adventure in which nothing could possibly go wrong, then come on by.

The stems measure approximately 8 inches tall and 4 across at the top.

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