I grew up going to flea-markets every weekend too. I usually bought comic books or if there was a sword or knife/weapon I liked, I'd get my dad to buy it for me because I wasn't old enough. Except for this one old guy who would sell anyone anything no matter what. I actually got a legit butterfly knife from him for free when I was 12. He didn't have it on display, and at the time I had no idea they were illegal, but I asked him if he ever got them in. Just like a movie, he looked side to side, reached inside a laptop bag and pulled out a black leather case, opened the case, pulled out a picture and said "that's what's in the case, don't open it here, and don't let anyone know where you got it. My gift to you" ,I said "Really? ,thanks" as I starred at the cool picture of a highly polished stainless steal masterpiece, and put the leather case in my pocket. That was the last time I ever saw that guy at the market. Before that, he was one of the only people that had a table there every single weekend. I still wonder where he went.
