"If you don't leave I'm going to take the shotgun we have in the back & shove it down your fucking throat..""Are you threatening me?"
I got drunk last night. My friend & I went shot for shot with Jameson's. Naturally, after such an adventure - I feel like shit. I woke up to people yelling outside & a barking dog. Not like a cool dog. Those little ankle-biters that cower when you even motion towards them & it is these bafoonaries of nature that produce the most piercing, most annoying "YELPS!" that kept me from further slumber. As it goes, I didn't wake up the happiest camper this morning. I digress, we leave the place & I go to drop my friend off before we both go our separate ways into the glorious, glorified workplace. This all will tie in shortly.
Come to work today to find myself doing the same tired things, in the same tired place. Get here at 10, Matt leaves 20 minutes later. We've had some snow these past couple weeks, probably three feet if you count all the precipitation so people are stocking all of what they feel they will need. Well at a pawn shop, along with all the awesome/useless things we carry, we carry generators which happened to be in high demand. A gentlemen comes in, friend to the owner of the cafe next door & wants to purchase one so he does. A little 1000 watt generator for $150 bucks. Skip to the next half of the day, he's back because it doesn't work. Well this thing was brand new, in box, never opened so it was pretty full proof. Granted, one can follow directions to use the thing. The gentleman doesn't follow directions. Generators require oil & gas. He didn't put oil in there & it wouldn't run properly so Marc fixes it & gets it running proper.
Skip to two days later. The present. We've had the generator over the course of the past two days because I guess he couldn't get in to pick it up. According to him, himself & the owner, Will, next door went in on it together. He comes in today & wants their money back. Well, Matt doesn't do that & my biggest peeve with Matt is how much shit I catch because of him. He usually remains faceless when things go wrong but luckily I didn't have to take this one. Marc fixed it, it became his burden to bare. So naturally, dude isn't getting his money back so he asks how much we'll buy it back for which would be $40. He's not so happy & starts to give Marc attitude. He says, "Well, Will(the owner of the cafe) wanted me to remind you guys how much money he spends in here & he will not be too happy about this." as he walks out of the door. Marc starts laughing & the show begins. "Now, what's so damn funny?" Marc rebuttals, "well why are you giving me attitude? It's not me, It's Matt." I think he's learned by now that it's not worth it to take the fall for Matt.. If someone is to remain faceless then let the blame fall on them because the conversation will never exist between Matt & the un-happy customer. Dude says to Marc, "You won't find it so funny when I shove my foot up your ass." Now Marc has a quick temper, it will usually get the best of him -
Marc - "Are you threatening me? You need to leave right now."
Dude - "Yes, I am. And what are you going to do if I don't leave."
Marc - "First, I'm going to call the cops & tell them someone is threatening me. Two - If you don't leave I'm going to grab the shotgun in the back and shove it down your fucking throat."
Dude - "Are you threatening me? You don't know who I work for buddy."
Marc(as he is picking up the phone to call the police) - "You need to leave right now."
Dude - "Or what?"
Marc - "Hello, I'm at the pawn shop off of _____ & I have someone here threatening me."
Dude walks out the door. I had to sit here & grasp what had just happened. I felt like I was watching five year olds argue over a toy or middle aged men flex about how big their dicks are or are not. "You don't know who I work for buddy.." What the fuck? Like your employer is going to come down here and what then if he does? Marc's just being a fucking baby though he was catching the short of the stick for this.
This cafe next door is run by a born again christian named Will. Will used to have a lot in common with me. He followed music for a while til, as he so passionately described it, "Music didn't pay my bills." Well, that is a whole other argument with me but whatever. I'm fairly certain most, if not all, of his customers are from his church plus everyone loves a guy who's "doing something for the kids" & "on God's side" which let's be real here - If there is a God, he's not going to be picking sides, at least not on a christian's view because their God is a forgiving God anyways so SIN IT UP FUCKERS! Just blows my mind.. Two people, devout followers of Christ will be the two quickest people to flex their supposed power or lack there of but it will be righteous. The food sucks, it's all microwaved & it's way over priced. Support the small guy, right? I'm straying from the subject...
Today - I woke up drunk & hung over, I saw two grown ass men go at it about what they're going to do to one another, 20 feet away from one another, learned to hate my job & everyone that's involved with this place a little bit more, if possible. And now I so passionately type this blog. I wonder what the rest of the day will bring?
For one out of the 30 people we do business with, I think we actually help two. That's Matt's whole argument, "we're here to help people. I try to do good business, ya know, we have all these people getting ripped off & I just try to be fair." Dude didn't know how to work a generator so he lost out. The morality behind this business is not morality at all or really human for that matter. I've learned a lot from this job about the human species as a whole.. though this is all first world problems I just want to re-iterate; I hate my job.
Bullshit.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
V.
A lady came in this morning trying to sell off some gold. Early 90's hair that's gone to the fritz, hanging on to it's last fried strand, tight jeans with reebok sneakers & a white Virginia Beach shirt with gawdy pinky letters. I wish I could've taken a picture of what she had. Basically it was a ring, that was once whole, but now in four pieces like some sort of puzzle. Lady proudly had her appraisal in hand saying that this once great ring was worth $2,200. I start to weigh out everything & examine the piece(s) as she rambles on about how it was & the potential it still has. The diamonds suck & if this was worth $2,200 at any given point she was either ripped off or whoever did the appraisal is a liar. It's bittersweet when people come in here looking for a certain amount of money because when you tell them how much we can buy it for, it looks like a piece of them dies. Their eyes get that hollow look. Like the thing they prided themselves in isn't worth a good god damn.. which is usually the case.
To paint you a clear picture - I was examining the jewelry at the front desk and as I've stated before, there is a camera in here for every angle you can find yourself in. Matt see's the jewelry on the counter on his 43" flat screen television in the back & comes out to do his evaluation. I really do not understand why I still have a job. I don't do shit because I believe these two think I am incapable of shit & will usually take over whatever function I am doing, which is ok because I'm still getting paid. The evaluation process usually takes about ten minutes. And this ten minutes is usually filled with silence with us on one end of the counter & them, the customer, on the other watching our every move. This wasn't the case with this lady. She had, I'm assuming, her boyfriend or husband with her and so it goes, they get into the great debate of buying things used, like jewelry, from a pawn shop. She asks her accomplice if he would happily accept something from a pawn shop to which he quickly replies, "yes." She immediately gets a confused look on her face to compliment her square head holding her self righteous thoughts. He knew he fucked up. "WHY?! you're buying someone else's misfortune & sorrow. I could never do that." Ok. I get it. People come into a pawn shop, see all the jewelry, and immediately get to thinking.. "This engagement ring was bought for some broad who cheated on their husband while he was deployed" or "some poor man's wife divorced him because he couldn't tend to her needs & wants or his dick wasn't big enough." A.K.A. - other people's sorrows & misfortunes. Ya know, first world problems... Now my point in this whole paragraph is this dumb bitch walks in here with a fucking diamond ring which was, nine times out of ten, probably mined from Africa and wants to bitch about where that ring or that necklace came from.. It just bothers me. And I don't mean to come off as pretentious and/or pompous but this is just ignorant. Which is worse? Some man losing his wife and a marriage that was probably rushed into anyway or some eight year old, starving child losing his life for the good find he stumbled upon earlier in the day. Whichever way you look at it, wherever it's coming from & unless you make everything you wear; don't come into a pawn shop talking about where things come from because chances are you don't know where what you have comes from. It could've been bought new or it could've came from the nastiest, smelliest and drunkest bastard walking the face of the earth. Maybe Some 10 year old made your shoes or shirt to compliment the 100 they already were taking on for the day for a weekly pay of $1 USD. Ignorance is not bliss, it is ignorance & this lady was ignorant.
Matt chimes in. "We could do $150 on this." She's taken back and exclaims in a baffled expression, "One-hundred and fifty dollars?!" "Are you even taking account for the diamonds?" She promptly scuffles out of the store probably bitching to that poor man that whole ride home. Such is life.
I can't wait to leave.
To paint you a clear picture - I was examining the jewelry at the front desk and as I've stated before, there is a camera in here for every angle you can find yourself in. Matt see's the jewelry on the counter on his 43" flat screen television in the back & comes out to do his evaluation. I really do not understand why I still have a job. I don't do shit because I believe these two think I am incapable of shit & will usually take over whatever function I am doing, which is ok because I'm still getting paid. The evaluation process usually takes about ten minutes. And this ten minutes is usually filled with silence with us on one end of the counter & them, the customer, on the other watching our every move. This wasn't the case with this lady. She had, I'm assuming, her boyfriend or husband with her and so it goes, they get into the great debate of buying things used, like jewelry, from a pawn shop. She asks her accomplice if he would happily accept something from a pawn shop to which he quickly replies, "yes." She immediately gets a confused look on her face to compliment her square head holding her self righteous thoughts. He knew he fucked up. "WHY?! you're buying someone else's misfortune & sorrow. I could never do that." Ok. I get it. People come into a pawn shop, see all the jewelry, and immediately get to thinking.. "This engagement ring was bought for some broad who cheated on their husband while he was deployed" or "some poor man's wife divorced him because he couldn't tend to her needs & wants or his dick wasn't big enough." A.K.A. - other people's sorrows & misfortunes. Ya know, first world problems... Now my point in this whole paragraph is this dumb bitch walks in here with a fucking diamond ring which was, nine times out of ten, probably mined from Africa and wants to bitch about where that ring or that necklace came from.. It just bothers me. And I don't mean to come off as pretentious and/or pompous but this is just ignorant. Which is worse? Some man losing his wife and a marriage that was probably rushed into anyway or some eight year old, starving child losing his life for the good find he stumbled upon earlier in the day. Whichever way you look at it, wherever it's coming from & unless you make everything you wear; don't come into a pawn shop talking about where things come from because chances are you don't know where what you have comes from. It could've been bought new or it could've came from the nastiest, smelliest and drunkest bastard walking the face of the earth. Maybe Some 10 year old made your shoes or shirt to compliment the 100 they already were taking on for the day for a weekly pay of $1 USD. Ignorance is not bliss, it is ignorance & this lady was ignorant.
Matt chimes in. "We could do $150 on this." She's taken back and exclaims in a baffled expression, "One-hundred and fifty dollars?!" "Are you even taking account for the diamonds?" She promptly scuffles out of the store probably bitching to that poor man that whole ride home. Such is life.
I can't wait to leave.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
IV.
There is nothing redeeming about this place. I always feel like I'm in a prison. The windows are all barred and there's 10 cameras always spying on my existence. I'm actually shocked as to how we haven't been robbed yet. I've always awaited that special someone coming in with a loaded glock, pointing it at my face, and in a desperate demeanor, demanding all the money in the drawer & safe. We keep some weapons about but nothing to write home about. I have a panic switch, bear mace & a police baton. There's some stuff in the back but it's not going to hold any avail at the front desk and I highly doubt anyone that could be by the weapons has a steady enough hand to not kill me. Then this place would truly prove to be nothing more than suicide. noise. Pawn paradise lost.
My boss just closed on a house yesterday and I had the delightful day to work. As I usually do not work Wednesdays, I have the pleasure to this week & I even get Friday off instead of the norm. What does one do with a Friday? He offered me Thursday or Friday instead and I took Friday cos it's sound just rings closer to the weekend but in reality it's not like I could take a weekend trip to get out of this extensive black hole. There is nothing in this town for anyone other than a house. I wonder if it's like this everywhere. Kind of a scary thought that no matter where you go on our little planet there will be a pawn shop flourishing with the very people that built America, only now their jobs have sunk to the better part of business. White Collar = Suckcess to me. And no matter how much I hate this job, I can take pride in the fact that I did things different, if such a thing exists. It's hard to find purpose when there isn't one. And at this very second, and for the past couple months, marc(with a c) steadily argues with his baby's mom. It's a promise, almost daily. He tries to be respectful about it by walking outside but I can hear him yell out there too & now he's in the back. If my tenure here at the shop has taught me anything it is this : I do not want to be like a Marc or Matt. Neither are happy. And while I can't say I am either, I can say that I am not like them.
My saving grace is that I leave here in a month. Win/Win. I don't care if it's less money/more work or even more money/less work, though the latter would be nice. My job consists of nothing. No feeling. No meaning. No work. No play. We all know that makes Mike a dull boy and that's exactly how I feel. Dull.
At this very second we have a spa chair sitting in front when you first walk in. Who the fuck is going to buy that. I digress, who the fuck is going to be sitting on a grand and walk into a pawn shop to buy a spa chair? We've some pretty sweet swords hanging up on the wall but they're not real. They're from Pakistan and I think that's about the only significance of them. They took away my desk too. I recently purchased a lap top from a good friend of mine & would keep my peace in the corner, furiously lurking away at the interwebs. But they wanted to expand our shelves so the desk had to go.. Bummer. I've never watched so many people do dumb shit in my life. I watched five minutes of a man with short hair up top and a five feet in the back asking for criticism of his sword technique on a youtube video. Suppose we'll sell these swords when he comes in but I personally think he's one out of a million.
We're also situated about 10 feet away from a major road. US RT. 1. Stretching from Miami up to Maine. Everyday I get to see people carry out their daily grind. Going up and down the road. It's depressing. I'll go to smoke a cigarette and catch so many dirty stares, it's unbelievable. This makes me ponder, though. Who's happier? These people work for an existence of comfortable living, or supposed comfort, and I work to fund my bills and play my drums. Truth is, we're both happy at points but I have fun. The only happy people in this world are the ones that do what they want, when they want. It's like being a child again only on a much larger scale. When you're younger, a piece of grass at the other end of the neighborhood was new and now we travel to other ends of the world to achieve something new. I like new. I want new.
Marc is out front of the shop as I type, moving his hands around screaming into his phone. He just walked out after being in the back. He started punching things. He is now somewhere else. I'm not sure where but he's not out front & not in the back.
One hour, 43 minutes, 20 seconds.
There is nothing redeeming about this place. I always feel like I'm in a prison. The windows are all barred and there's 10 cameras always spying on my existence. I'm actually shocked as to how we haven't been robbed yet. I've always awaited that special someone coming in with a loaded glock, pointing it at my face, and in a desperate demeanor, demanding all the money in the drawer & safe. We keep some weapons about but nothing to write home about. I have a panic switch, bear mace & a police baton. There's some stuff in the back but it's not going to hold any avail at the front desk and I highly doubt anyone that could be by the weapons has a steady enough hand to not kill me. Then this place would truly prove to be nothing more than suicide. noise. Pawn paradise lost.
My boss just closed on a house yesterday and I had the delightful day to work. As I usually do not work Wednesdays, I have the pleasure to this week & I even get Friday off instead of the norm. What does one do with a Friday? He offered me Thursday or Friday instead and I took Friday cos it's sound just rings closer to the weekend but in reality it's not like I could take a weekend trip to get out of this extensive black hole. There is nothing in this town for anyone other than a house. I wonder if it's like this everywhere. Kind of a scary thought that no matter where you go on our little planet there will be a pawn shop flourishing with the very people that built America, only now their jobs have sunk to the better part of business. White Collar = Suckcess to me. And no matter how much I hate this job, I can take pride in the fact that I did things different, if such a thing exists. It's hard to find purpose when there isn't one. And at this very second, and for the past couple months, marc(with a c) steadily argues with his baby's mom. It's a promise, almost daily. He tries to be respectful about it by walking outside but I can hear him yell out there too & now he's in the back. If my tenure here at the shop has taught me anything it is this : I do not want to be like a Marc or Matt. Neither are happy. And while I can't say I am either, I can say that I am not like them.
My saving grace is that I leave here in a month. Win/Win. I don't care if it's less money/more work or even more money/less work, though the latter would be nice. My job consists of nothing. No feeling. No meaning. No work. No play. We all know that makes Mike a dull boy and that's exactly how I feel. Dull.
At this very second we have a spa chair sitting in front when you first walk in. Who the fuck is going to buy that. I digress, who the fuck is going to be sitting on a grand and walk into a pawn shop to buy a spa chair? We've some pretty sweet swords hanging up on the wall but they're not real. They're from Pakistan and I think that's about the only significance of them. They took away my desk too. I recently purchased a lap top from a good friend of mine & would keep my peace in the corner, furiously lurking away at the interwebs. But they wanted to expand our shelves so the desk had to go.. Bummer. I've never watched so many people do dumb shit in my life. I watched five minutes of a man with short hair up top and a five feet in the back asking for criticism of his sword technique on a youtube video. Suppose we'll sell these swords when he comes in but I personally think he's one out of a million.
We're also situated about 10 feet away from a major road. US RT. 1. Stretching from Miami up to Maine. Everyday I get to see people carry out their daily grind. Going up and down the road. It's depressing. I'll go to smoke a cigarette and catch so many dirty stares, it's unbelievable. This makes me ponder, though. Who's happier? These people work for an existence of comfortable living, or supposed comfort, and I work to fund my bills and play my drums. Truth is, we're both happy at points but I have fun. The only happy people in this world are the ones that do what they want, when they want. It's like being a child again only on a much larger scale. When you're younger, a piece of grass at the other end of the neighborhood was new and now we travel to other ends of the world to achieve something new. I like new. I want new.
Marc is out front of the shop as I type, moving his hands around screaming into his phone. He just walked out after being in the back. He started punching things. He is now somewhere else. I'm not sure where but he's not out front & not in the back.
One hour, 43 minutes, 20 seconds.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
III
"Meet the Beavers."
In walks Virginia. The trashiest of the trash & the arch nemesis of proper tooth care. I can hear her chomping a mile away. She's about 6'0, 230lbs. about six teeth to her name, all sticking outward & fucked, always noming on gum. She loans us a 10k white gold ring that weighs next to nothing & has a nice, little opal stone at the apex of the ring. She has a little companion named Pedro that always pawns his toolbox. It's just a toolbox, nothing fancy. Just a red tool box with tools in it for $10. Pedro stands about 5'1, pushing 150lbs soaking wet & he smells, he smells dreadful. The kind of smells that can only meet when one pisses himself & basks in the glory for days without a shower so you have all the other matter that gets built up on one's body. It's like the smell of Silver & Copper after they've aged for a while. Very rich in smell. And quite bitter..
Virginia & Pedro walk in one day as he has come to pick up his tools & her, her ring but they're also carrying a stereo. A stereo that we had sold to them for $40. This thing wasn't worth $40 & I(we) knew this. But alas, the glory of the pawn shop. Ms. Virginia is looking to sell the stereo back for the exact amount that she bought it for. She genuinely believes that she will get $40 for this stereo when it was over priced to begin with. These are the kind of people that will come in to pay the interest on their current loan, i.e. The ring, give her $10, she pays $2 interest every month just so we can hold it another month & then buys something else in here like a stereo that she, more than likely, doesn't need whatsoever. What the fuck. Go to the dentist. I don't know what some people are thinking. You may be missing a tooth or two but you're not missing your skull. There's a fucking brain in there some where. So as it goes, we tell her we will not even buy it & she doesn't understand.. She storms out back into her 1994 Ford Probe, complete with exhaust & spoiler. Meanwhile, we have Pedro, getting his tools as calm as can be. Poor guy. Not only does he smell bad, I bet she beats him. I wasn't here for this but one time they got caught up in an argument & he stuck up for himself, telling her in a Speedy Gonzalez-esque voice, "shut the fuck up, bitch." Awesome. Wish I could've been here for that.
The Beauty of a pawn shop is this - Anyone can make money off of opening a pawn shop. You see you don't really hear about pawn shops going out of business because as much as one would like to think that we're helping you, we are not. We're stealing from you. We're fucking you & we're fucking you hard, anally. It's just you're too numb or desperate to think about all the other options you have.. You won't believe how often people come in here trying to sell something to us for $X, when they could be making double the amount of $X off of craigs list or ebay. It's mind numbing. I plead of you, don't go to a pawn shop. If you're reading this, chances are you're doing well and/or your parents are doing well to have you somewhere where you can go on the world wide webs but don't go to a pawn shop. The weed, the abortion, the crack... With the amount you pay back in interest, you probably could've gotten two rocks or an eighth or maybe a dozen coat hangers. Kidding. But I do get to go to court for the first time cos some asshole decided to sell us a camera for $5 that was stolen. Now you're fucking my day, man.
In walks Virginia. The trashiest of the trash & the arch nemesis of proper tooth care. I can hear her chomping a mile away. She's about 6'0, 230lbs. about six teeth to her name, all sticking outward & fucked, always noming on gum. She loans us a 10k white gold ring that weighs next to nothing & has a nice, little opal stone at the apex of the ring. She has a little companion named Pedro that always pawns his toolbox. It's just a toolbox, nothing fancy. Just a red tool box with tools in it for $10. Pedro stands about 5'1, pushing 150lbs soaking wet & he smells, he smells dreadful. The kind of smells that can only meet when one pisses himself & basks in the glory for days without a shower so you have all the other matter that gets built up on one's body. It's like the smell of Silver & Copper after they've aged for a while. Very rich in smell. And quite bitter..
Virginia & Pedro walk in one day as he has come to pick up his tools & her, her ring but they're also carrying a stereo. A stereo that we had sold to them for $40. This thing wasn't worth $40 & I(we) knew this. But alas, the glory of the pawn shop. Ms. Virginia is looking to sell the stereo back for the exact amount that she bought it for. She genuinely believes that she will get $40 for this stereo when it was over priced to begin with. These are the kind of people that will come in to pay the interest on their current loan, i.e. The ring, give her $10, she pays $2 interest every month just so we can hold it another month & then buys something else in here like a stereo that she, more than likely, doesn't need whatsoever. What the fuck. Go to the dentist. I don't know what some people are thinking. You may be missing a tooth or two but you're not missing your skull. There's a fucking brain in there some where. So as it goes, we tell her we will not even buy it & she doesn't understand.. She storms out back into her 1994 Ford Probe, complete with exhaust & spoiler. Meanwhile, we have Pedro, getting his tools as calm as can be. Poor guy. Not only does he smell bad, I bet she beats him. I wasn't here for this but one time they got caught up in an argument & he stuck up for himself, telling her in a Speedy Gonzalez-esque voice, "shut the fuck up, bitch." Awesome. Wish I could've been here for that.
The Beauty of a pawn shop is this - Anyone can make money off of opening a pawn shop. You see you don't really hear about pawn shops going out of business because as much as one would like to think that we're helping you, we are not. We're stealing from you. We're fucking you & we're fucking you hard, anally. It's just you're too numb or desperate to think about all the other options you have.. You won't believe how often people come in here trying to sell something to us for $X, when they could be making double the amount of $X off of craigs list or ebay. It's mind numbing. I plead of you, don't go to a pawn shop. If you're reading this, chances are you're doing well and/or your parents are doing well to have you somewhere where you can go on the world wide webs but don't go to a pawn shop. The weed, the abortion, the crack... With the amount you pay back in interest, you probably could've gotten two rocks or an eighth or maybe a dozen coat hangers. Kidding. But I do get to go to court for the first time cos some asshole decided to sell us a camera for $5 that was stolen. Now you're fucking my day, man.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
II
"I work at a pawn shop, I smoke weed & I lick assholes." - An awesome person.
I really am not keeping up with this as I thought I would. It seems as of late(since I started this), nothing too incredibly interesting has happened. Maybe I've just become desynthesized to the world & the wonderous people & situations it holds.
The steady customer with the dvds came in again. Selling about 10 brand new dvds & four seasons of Two and a Half Men & King of Queens. Let's do mathtime with Mike real quick. Each dvd still has the price tag from wal mart on it branding each at $19.99. At $19.99 a pop that equals $199.90. We do a dollar a piece here & thats if we don't already have it in our extensive array of 4,000 something odd movies, giving her a loss of(drumroll plz) $189.90. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!! I really want to just tell her no. so maybe she'll stop mass usage of benzos & get her shit straight. Who am I to say this though.. I obviously have my shit straight.
Now you can imagine the kinds of people that come in here. We're walking distance from two trailer parks & directly in the path of a Texaco from these trailer parks. Not to stereotype but I see at least five people a day walking to & from their trailer to the Texaco, walking back with a brown bag or a case. Sometime's I(we) get the joy of these people coming in. One guy came in standing about 5'5 in height, about a buck forty in stature. He had a heather gray shirt sagging off his body with grease stains all over it, boots from the 1980s, & those wonderful, built tough, wrangler jeans. He walks in all smug, watching over his back like the man was after him, in his hands a brown paperbag. Now as soon as I lock eyes with this guy I figure he's going to try & sell me some alcohol. Fuckin' aye man. He comes up to the counter, still all smug, dead set on getting some money. He asks, "You guys do loans here?" I reply, "Yeah man, we most certainly do." He continues to dump out the belongings that were encased in the brown bag. What follows in front of me is a tape measurer from the dollar store, a used porno dvd, & a screwdriver. I stand there for the better half of five seconds in straight dis-belief, thinking to myself, "you've got to be fucking kidding me." He then tries to hustle the "goods" off to me. I wish I could put into words the looks this guy was giving. Wide-eyed, death stare is how I'll describe it. I told him we wouldn't be able to buy any of that. I mean you couldn't even give that off to a bum let alone sell the shit or get a loan on it. I told him we couldn't do a loan on it & he looked crushed.. which then turned to anger. The look he gave me after I gave him the news kind of looked like Pinky in Next Friday. The part where they're in the record store & Pinky has the gun to Craig. Dude threw his shit back in the paper bag & waddled off, out of the store, not so smug anymore. Haven't seen the dude since.
Speaking of pornos - How our system works for pawns is you bring something in here, we assess the value to us which is usually right around 10-20% of the price you can get it brand new or used. I.E. a television you paid $600 for, depending on it's shape, you'll get about $50 to $100 for it. $50 for a loan, $100 to sell. We go by months & we'll keep your stuff in the back if you pay the interest on it. So when people don't pay the interest on their goods or come back in to buy it back from us(plus the 17% interest) it becomes our property for us to sell also known as being forfeited. So today a portable dvd player came into forfeit. Mark opens the bag to find the black memorex dvd player with lotion(or something) covering it. He then pulls out about ten porno dvds & immediately drops the dvd player. Now, I know this doesn't sound like much but what the fuck? What kind of fucked up human being walks around with a portable dvd player & ten pornos, jerking off, then pawns it? That's nasty. And what's even greater about it is the fact that someone will more than likely buy this not knowing all the hours spent sewing seeds onto this great, portable dvd device. Included in the ten pornos was Cum on my Black Ass 9, Black Girl Gang-Bangs, Fuck me Harder 5 and Dripping Wet Black Pussies 5. I really couldn't make this up. Here's to humanity.
I really am not keeping up with this as I thought I would. It seems as of late(since I started this), nothing too incredibly interesting has happened. Maybe I've just become desynthesized to the world & the wonderous people & situations it holds.
The steady customer with the dvds came in again. Selling about 10 brand new dvds & four seasons of Two and a Half Men & King of Queens. Let's do mathtime with Mike real quick. Each dvd still has the price tag from wal mart on it branding each at $19.99. At $19.99 a pop that equals $199.90. We do a dollar a piece here & thats if we don't already have it in our extensive array of 4,000 something odd movies, giving her a loss of(drumroll plz) $189.90. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!! I really want to just tell her no. so maybe she'll stop mass usage of benzos & get her shit straight. Who am I to say this though.. I obviously have my shit straight.
Now you can imagine the kinds of people that come in here. We're walking distance from two trailer parks & directly in the path of a Texaco from these trailer parks. Not to stereotype but I see at least five people a day walking to & from their trailer to the Texaco, walking back with a brown bag or a case. Sometime's I(we) get the joy of these people coming in. One guy came in standing about 5'5 in height, about a buck forty in stature. He had a heather gray shirt sagging off his body with grease stains all over it, boots from the 1980s, & those wonderful, built tough, wrangler jeans. He walks in all smug, watching over his back like the man was after him, in his hands a brown paperbag. Now as soon as I lock eyes with this guy I figure he's going to try & sell me some alcohol. Fuckin' aye man. He comes up to the counter, still all smug, dead set on getting some money. He asks, "You guys do loans here?" I reply, "Yeah man, we most certainly do." He continues to dump out the belongings that were encased in the brown bag. What follows in front of me is a tape measurer from the dollar store, a used porno dvd, & a screwdriver. I stand there for the better half of five seconds in straight dis-belief, thinking to myself, "you've got to be fucking kidding me." He then tries to hustle the "goods" off to me. I wish I could put into words the looks this guy was giving. Wide-eyed, death stare is how I'll describe it. I told him we wouldn't be able to buy any of that. I mean you couldn't even give that off to a bum let alone sell the shit or get a loan on it. I told him we couldn't do a loan on it & he looked crushed.. which then turned to anger. The look he gave me after I gave him the news kind of looked like Pinky in Next Friday. The part where they're in the record store & Pinky has the gun to Craig. Dude threw his shit back in the paper bag & waddled off, out of the store, not so smug anymore. Haven't seen the dude since.
Speaking of pornos - How our system works for pawns is you bring something in here, we assess the value to us which is usually right around 10-20% of the price you can get it brand new or used. I.E. a television you paid $600 for, depending on it's shape, you'll get about $50 to $100 for it. $50 for a loan, $100 to sell. We go by months & we'll keep your stuff in the back if you pay the interest on it. So when people don't pay the interest on their goods or come back in to buy it back from us(plus the 17% interest) it becomes our property for us to sell also known as being forfeited. So today a portable dvd player came into forfeit. Mark opens the bag to find the black memorex dvd player with lotion(or something) covering it. He then pulls out about ten porno dvds & immediately drops the dvd player. Now, I know this doesn't sound like much but what the fuck? What kind of fucked up human being walks around with a portable dvd player & ten pornos, jerking off, then pawns it? That's nasty. And what's even greater about it is the fact that someone will more than likely buy this not knowing all the hours spent sewing seeds onto this great, portable dvd device. Included in the ten pornos was Cum on my Black Ass 9, Black Girl Gang-Bangs, Fuck me Harder 5 and Dripping Wet Black Pussies 5. I really couldn't make this up. Here's to humanity.
Monday, October 26, 2009
I
It's amazing what people will do. Truly. Today, at about 11 am a fairly decent looking female with blonde hair & brown eyes came in the shop. I'm a sucker for brown eyes. Now working at a pawn shop, these are few & far between. The only attractive females that ever really come in here have been my girlfriend(s), Mark's baby momma, Stan's kool-aid, and Matt's wife(who is a total babe). Said girl brings her boyfriend in with her. The first thing they do is ask for Matt. Supposedly this girl was in an accident yesterday or two as she claims & there's bills to pay. First off, she has a diamond bracelet & a movado watch. The bracelet is about 1.75 to 2 carats in diamond weight & is white gold. Could easily be sold at a jewelry store for two to three grand. The whole time she's just saying, "It's a nice bracelet, It's a nice bracelet." She further explains that she hit a mailbox yesterday while she was looking at her cell phone & she ran into the back of someone yesterday because her brakes aren't too well off & the guy infront of her slammed on his brakes. She's a keeper! Dime a fucking dozen. For the watch & the bracelet Matt offers her $300. To which she replies, "I was expecting lyk, I dunno, maybe $500." The guy chimes in with, "Man, it's a nice bracelet. We payed a couple grand for that. It's kind of hard to swallow letting it go for that much." Ok man, get the fuck out. What do you expect? Honestly. Matt's whole selling point is we pay the most for gold & whatever else. We don't. Matt told them to check out this other pawn shop. That they would surely be in the door & then right back out. So the twenty-something-nothings start to walk out & it was apparant that Matt & the girl knew eachother the whole time. Come to find out, it was through mutual friends. Now the whole kicker of this is that the bracelet she brought in to sell was bought for her from Matt a couple months back by an ex-boyfriend of hers for $800 & we have this asshole talking about how much they payed for it. Well, it's about 2pm & they haven't been back. Fuck the Yankees & Fuck you, man.
We also have regulars here as one could imagine. A lady named Patricia came in earlier today, she has at least six loans open at all times from us, fairly certain she is a fan of benzos. As of this second there is a power washer, 40 dvds strewn throughout different loans, an angle grinder & a ring on loan for Miss Patricia. I see her at least twice a week. She usually comes in to sell off dvds. She'll literally go to wal-mart, buy the dvds & then come sell them here maybe a week later. We've gotten such gems as High School Musical 3 & What Happens in Vegas, not to exclude a plethora of Strawberry Shortcake movies. I'm pretty sure that's like a $14 loss for each dvd though.. So today, she comes into the shop with an "All-in-one printer" in a trashbag & one dvd. Crank Two. We just buy the dvd for a dollar & she's on her way saying she'll back in in a few with more goodies. Yes.
And now there's another frequent customer. I think something is wrong him though. I'm stuck between he actually has mental problems or he did a lot of acid/other pyschedlics growing up cos his brain just seems to be fried. Truly is a very nice guy. He kind of reminds me of someone who would be super into Elvis Costello & the boyscouts, which is cool, do you & do it well. He has super tight jeans pulled up to his belly button so his socks are showing with a weird, 60's esque pattern button down shirt tucked-in. Now when I say boyscouts, not the pedephile esque type deal I'm probably pompously making this dude sound like. Just really high pants with his tan socks showing, black pleather shoes, a red bandana around his neck, weird glasses that aren't glasses at all & a tan scuba diving hat. He kind of talks like the counselor that says, "mmkay" a lot on South Park & stutters a lot. He's usually in here for two hours at a time going back & forth between the 4,000 something dvds we have or the 400 cds on the wall we have. I feel like he literally goes through every single one reading the inserts. In fact, I know he does. What the fuck else do you do for two hours in a pawn shop?
We also have regulars here as one could imagine. A lady named Patricia came in earlier today, she has at least six loans open at all times from us, fairly certain she is a fan of benzos. As of this second there is a power washer, 40 dvds strewn throughout different loans, an angle grinder & a ring on loan for Miss Patricia. I see her at least twice a week. She usually comes in to sell off dvds. She'll literally go to wal-mart, buy the dvds & then come sell them here maybe a week later. We've gotten such gems as High School Musical 3 & What Happens in Vegas, not to exclude a plethora of Strawberry Shortcake movies. I'm pretty sure that's like a $14 loss for each dvd though.. So today, she comes into the shop with an "All-in-one printer" in a trashbag & one dvd. Crank Two. We just buy the dvd for a dollar & she's on her way saying she'll back in in a few with more goodies. Yes.
And now there's another frequent customer. I think something is wrong him though. I'm stuck between he actually has mental problems or he did a lot of acid/other pyschedlics growing up cos his brain just seems to be fried. Truly is a very nice guy. He kind of reminds me of someone who would be super into Elvis Costello & the boyscouts, which is cool, do you & do it well. He has super tight jeans pulled up to his belly button so his socks are showing with a weird, 60's esque pattern button down shirt tucked-in. Now when I say boyscouts, not the pedephile esque type deal I'm probably pompously making this dude sound like. Just really high pants with his tan socks showing, black pleather shoes, a red bandana around his neck, weird glasses that aren't glasses at all & a tan scuba diving hat. He kind of talks like the counselor that says, "mmkay" a lot on South Park & stutters a lot. He's usually in here for two hours at a time going back & forth between the 4,000 something dvds we have or the 400 cds on the wall we have. I feel like he literally goes through every single one reading the inserts. In fact, I know he does. What the fuck else do you do for two hours in a pawn shop?
Introducing...
An introduction -
My name is Mike. I'm freshly 21, currently not in any form of school, rather cynical & I play in a couple bands. Don't judge me. I work at a pawn shop in a rural, suburban setting with quite the array of people. The "shop," as we call it, was once owned by a very good friend of mine's father, Bob. Bob was a good man. An honest, hard-working man who made money his own way & he did it well. He sold the business about two years ago to a man named Matt. Matt is my boss. Matt is not Bob. In hopes to explain Matt as best as I can, I will leave it short; He is a businessman. Business man >/= asshole. He likes his money & is usually always right. awesome. I also work with a 32 year old man/dude named Mark. Good dude, funny stories, sometimes a big baby & he smokes a lot of weed. He ended up here after work for his Surveying job fell through. Mostly due to this piece of shit "recession", which is also why I still work here. There is another guy that works once in a while named Stan. Stan is 32 as well & he did HVAC shit for a while but decided to go back to school to get into radiology. Stan is also a good dude, very nice, buys pizza & gives me weed sometimes.
The job is really low-key. I really don't do shit but sit behind a computer, search the interwebs & say, "How are you today? Is there anything you're looking for?" I don't really have to put up with people's shit either, which is a plus. Now if you're familiar with pawn shops - they suck. We suck. I highly do not recommend coming to one to sell something/get a loan on anything. The interest rate we give out on loans is 17%. What the fuck, right? That's more than the interest on my car loan & I received that with absolutely no credit. It should be known right now that I hate my fucking job. I hate ripping people off. We play on people's desperation which is fucked & has thus added to my cynical nature. Do what you have to do. I've bills. Such is Life. Albeit, you CAN find good deals on some things, but mostly not. We're selling a USED PS3 for $349. You can get a brand new one for $299. We sell Xbox 360s for the same price as they are brand new. Matt's way of thinking is this - You mark the price up really high so when you lower the price people will think they're getting a deal. Example: The PS3. Take $50 off & some fucking idiot is supposed to think he's getting a steal for $300. Which sadly, I wouldn't put past anyone but it's not like anything is selling. The PS3 has been sitting here for a long, long time. Let's get one thing straight - It's not like that stupid fucking television show on the History or the A&E channel, whatever. You bring in a piece of armor or a busted arcade game we will look at you like you're fucking stupid & tell you we won't buy it. Matt makes his money off buying gold, so I'm told.
I started this blog to share my stories from working here. Where this pawn shop operates is a pretty safe place but there are some interesting fucking people here(like everywhere). Naturally, I have some stories to tell from these beautiful & wonderful people that make up this small world of ours. I hope you find entertainment from this & even if you don't - I don't care because you still read some of it which is kind of cool for me. Enjoy.
My name is Mike. I'm freshly 21, currently not in any form of school, rather cynical & I play in a couple bands. Don't judge me. I work at a pawn shop in a rural, suburban setting with quite the array of people. The "shop," as we call it, was once owned by a very good friend of mine's father, Bob. Bob was a good man. An honest, hard-working man who made money his own way & he did it well. He sold the business about two years ago to a man named Matt. Matt is my boss. Matt is not Bob. In hopes to explain Matt as best as I can, I will leave it short; He is a businessman. Business man >/= asshole. He likes his money & is usually always right. awesome. I also work with a 32 year old man/dude named Mark. Good dude, funny stories, sometimes a big baby & he smokes a lot of weed. He ended up here after work for his Surveying job fell through. Mostly due to this piece of shit "recession", which is also why I still work here. There is another guy that works once in a while named Stan. Stan is 32 as well & he did HVAC shit for a while but decided to go back to school to get into radiology. Stan is also a good dude, very nice, buys pizza & gives me weed sometimes.
The job is really low-key. I really don't do shit but sit behind a computer, search the interwebs & say, "How are you today? Is there anything you're looking for?" I don't really have to put up with people's shit either, which is a plus. Now if you're familiar with pawn shops - they suck. We suck. I highly do not recommend coming to one to sell something/get a loan on anything. The interest rate we give out on loans is 17%. What the fuck, right? That's more than the interest on my car loan & I received that with absolutely no credit. It should be known right now that I hate my fucking job. I hate ripping people off. We play on people's desperation which is fucked & has thus added to my cynical nature. Do what you have to do. I've bills. Such is Life. Albeit, you CAN find good deals on some things, but mostly not. We're selling a USED PS3 for $349. You can get a brand new one for $299. We sell Xbox 360s for the same price as they are brand new. Matt's way of thinking is this - You mark the price up really high so when you lower the price people will think they're getting a deal. Example: The PS3. Take $50 off & some fucking idiot is supposed to think he's getting a steal for $300. Which sadly, I wouldn't put past anyone but it's not like anything is selling. The PS3 has been sitting here for a long, long time. Let's get one thing straight - It's not like that stupid fucking television show on the History or the A&E channel, whatever. You bring in a piece of armor or a busted arcade game we will look at you like you're fucking stupid & tell you we won't buy it. Matt makes his money off buying gold, so I'm told.
I started this blog to share my stories from working here. Where this pawn shop operates is a pretty safe place but there are some interesting fucking people here(like everywhere). Naturally, I have some stories to tell from these beautiful & wonderful people that make up this small world of ours. I hope you find entertainment from this & even if you don't - I don't care because you still read some of it which is kind of cool for me. Enjoy.
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