TIFU by finding treasure on a clifftop.

Monday, September 13, 2021

I was sitting under a tree smoking a joint with a buddy of mine on top of a clifftop of my hometown that overlooks the ocean about 15 years ago. As we passed it back and forth talking shit and taking in the view I leaned back and heard a hollow noise ring out about an inch below the soft dry soil. Both of us confused by the noise began to scrape back the dry earth and there looking back at us was this beautiful old hand-painted tobacco tin. It looked to be from the '50s or earlier. Jackpot, baby. The tin itself looked valuable so whatever is inside must be valuable too!

We were excited. Really fucking excited. What would be inside something so old? Cash? Jewelry? Cool historical artifacts?

Well, I peeled the lid off this bad boy just as a decent sea breeze plowed its way up the clifftop, and ash just fucking drilled me in the eyes and crop dusted both of us. It was on our lips, in our hair, and all over our clothes.

I slammed the lid back on and turned to look at my buddy whilst wiping the ash outta my eyes. He looked like an antique that'd been found in the corner of an attic, and I looked the same.

As we sat there high as fuck and thoroughly dusted the penny dropped. This was a dead dude. In our mouths, in our hair, and in my eyes.

We rolled about laughing awkwardly and laid them back to rest. Sorry for the resurrection, my guy.

Tl;dr The value of the treasure is in the eye of the beholder.

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