When my grandfather’s pharmacy was razed in the late ’80s, my family wound up with his old office safe:

It was locked and no one could remember the combination. Fortunately the door was open and I was able to work out the combination by looking through a pinhole in the rear of the lock mechanism while rotating the dial. From then on, it was my safe.

I used to hide beer in it back in high school, but now it serves as a side table next to the fireplace in our den:

Our fireplace is wood-burning, so we keep matches and starter logs in the safe now. What’s funny is that no one has ever independently commented on it before. If we don’t point out that we keep an old safe in the room, everyone just glances over it like it’s a normal table.