My Beloved Piano - and NO Tin Cup!

When I was in the market for a new piano, I had become aware that, at that time, the Yamaha piano was in fact one of the best pianos out there; and even though I was thinking Steinway, I thought that I should look into the Yamaha matter, especially after having learned that a nearby university had purchased a large number of small Yamahas for its practice annex.
The head salesman informed me that, sadly, there was such a demand for the Yamaha grands that he would not have any for several weeks, but he did invite me to try an upright, the only Yamaha in the store at that time.
I was hugely impressed by the large and rounded sounds coming out of such a small piano, and immediately asked if I could be contacted when the next shipment of grands arrived.
About six long weeks later, the Yamaha store called, and informed me that there were three grands due in any moment now, two of which were already sold. I informed him that I would come down immediately, which I did.
Upon arriving, the pianos had not as yet arrived, and so I waited for quite some time before the truck appeared in front of the store. During that waiting period, I was told that the one remaining grand piano on that truck was already in demand by three or four other individuals. It seems that there was a rather strong groundswell of interest for these pianos from Japan, and I was part of that groundswell.
And so, in a mode of at least mild desperation, I asked if I could try the piano before it entered the store. Mr W. was befuddled, to say the least; however, I promised that if I liked the piano, I would make an official commitment then and there.
The result: when the truck arrived, and the grands were being brought down to the sidewalk, I spotted a medium-sized model, and upon its making contact with the sidewalk, I got on my knees (I was dressed in a suit!), as the piano had no legs attached, of course, and I played some music on the keyboard. I was amazed that the piano, after such a long trip, was still in very good tune, and I promptly told the gentleman that I would make a binding deposit on the piano then and there, which did indeed take place a few minutes thereafter in the store.
When I think of it, I do remember that there were four or five people who happened to be walking by, then stopped, to listen to a kind of piano performance perhaps never again to be replicated.
That piano is still in my living room.
I realize now that the only item missing from that scene was a tin cup.