all my favorite drinking glasses come from thrift shops

...

maybe it's symbolic of the continuity of life. the drinking glasses obtained in thrift shops are invariably remnants of someone else's life: either dumped there by the estate after death, hawked in the throes of unexpected destitution, or cast off in some misguided attempt to stave off alcoholism by discarding its accoutrements (thank goodness for safari's text-box spell checker, whew!).

and so, as one man/woman sheds their earthly possessions/eliminates costly hobbies/trades one vice for another, i continue in their footsteps, purchasing for a pittance what once was their stout drinking companion, their steadfast, solitary contemplation buddy, and maybe, just maybe, i drink from the cup of a man/woman better than me, a second-hand holy grail; bestowing upon my predecessor the eternal life that comes from one man contemplating the life of another departed.

or maybe someone just thought they had some really ugly glassware and got rid of them. that's cool, too, since i dig em.