It’s about 10pm and I’m in the South of Market Fluid Lounge about a week ago, hanging out with geek engineers, late 20s. They are just starting their day, they’ll be coding at a local incubator until about 6am. But right now, they are having a cocktail and talking about how to meet women.

“What you do, is you leave an ATM receipt on the bar, and it has been faked to read as if you have millions in the bank -- that’ll impress the girls,” one says. The other one, spotting a monetization opportunity, says, “Yeah, and we can sell them on eBay for like, twenty bucks a piece!” They even figure that they won’t have to fake the ATM receipts, because their boss is worth hundreds of millions -- they’ll just fish out his ATM receipts from the trash can, iron out the wrinkles, and they’ll be the most popular guys in any club.

How are these hot women going to get a look at “your” ATM receipt? And if your ATM receipt shows you have millions in your checking account, you are showing yourself as a foolish manager of your money. Do you think that’s attractive, I asked?

“Well, you could ask someone to look at your ATM receipt because…you forgot your glasses at the office,” one suggested. The issue of the large amount of cash sitting in the checking account was less well addressed, but, hey, being dumb and rich has gotten a lot of people laid anyway, was the conclusion.

So, be warned, if anyone asks you to look at an ATM receipt … be very suspicious—or just play along.

How much for that Blogger t-shirt in the window?

Buck is chatting with a guy, and Buck says he has an original Blogger t-shirt, in brown, and with no Google logo on the back (Google bought the publisher of Blogger.com). It's probably worth a lot, Buck says. The other guy agrees but trumps Buck, says he has an original Blogger hooded sweatshirt in blue from 1999. And it came from one of only three cartons of this type ever made (geek trivia note).

What would you let that Blogger t-shirt go for, I ask Buck? “I don’t know…..sixty bucks I guess.”

Sold say I! I reach out to shake on the deal, while my other hand reaches for my wallet. But Buck pulls away--and is now hesitant.

“Well, I didn’t say I would sell it…I just said it was worth a lot,” he says. Okay, okay, seventy five bucks, I say, it’s my final offer. But no dice, Buck has taken it off the market. And now he has changed the subject to RSS, and that because his company helped develop it, they are building a lucrative business around it, etc.

I’m half listening and wondering: what is an original Blogger t-shirt worth today? From early 2000, no Google logo on the back, in brown, with yellow lettering?

Damn, I used to throw a ton of that promo stuff away, or use the t-shirts to clean the car. I should have kept that stuff.

And I don’t blame Buck for not selling. I would not sell an original Blogger t-shirt for sixty bucks. This stuff is history, part of Silicon Valley lore. I’d sell it for seventy five though. (Buck--call me, it really is a good price.)