That lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets

I have spent hours at the Antique Fair last night, and plan to go again tonight and stay until closing. 

As I am wondering through the aisles, looking at Majorelle desks and Tiffany lamps, I am not thinking of the Arab Spring that is rapidly turning into an Arab Nightmare, not thinking of Egypt opening the border with Gaza (no doubt, to allow long-range missiles and other lovely necessities in), not thinking of the bumbling fools occupying the seats of power here who are still trying to "reach out" to Arab and Iranian thugs and despots.

Instead,  I am channeling Holly Golightly: "Nothing very bad can happen to you here, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets"