For the month of August, we’ve visited independent businesses around St. Louis, specifically, ones that are new to us. See our archives for previous editions. Next Wednesday, it’s urban exploration month!
Somehow, the dog days of August confused me. I was unaware that the month had five Wednesdays and that day came and went without an SLM Daily look at any interesting independent business. And that night proved a bit sticky, too. I was bent on adding a late Illinois presence to the ranks, but the first choice—Fresh Image, a clothing store in East St. Louis’ retail-light downtown—was locked-down tight. A second idea went up in flames, as I simply couldn’t find the spot. Other thoughts came, but I’d visited them before.
I wanted new. Or, at least, new to me. Then came the revelation...
Having been a semi-frequent visitor to Fairmount Park over the years, I remembered that there was an option not so far from where I found myself on the side of the road, pondering which direction to randomly go. The area between Cahokia Mounds and the race track’s always been of high interest, with a weird mix of drive-through liquor shops, meat markets, corner bars, Mexican groceries and mixed-bag services, like tow-truck lots and notaries. Two businesses that I’d long wanted to visit sit right along that stretch, and they seem perfectly at ease in that location.
They’re pawn shops: Pawn King (9001 Collinsville, 618-346-2203) and Herman’s Pawn Shop (9020 Collinsville, 618-344-8778). If cable TV’s taught us anything in recent years, it’s that pawn shops are an interesting place to go, full of wacky characters, who engage one another in witty banter with a customer base that’s as diverse as you’d expect in ye olde melting pot. In theory, I went for two possible buys: some disco lights, which would be fun for DJing purposes, and a some cameras, since I always figure that it’s only the equipment holding me back from genius visuals.
Unfortunately, on Wednesday, I drove up to Pawn King just as it closed at 6 p.m. Ditto for Herman’s. Annoyed, but undeterred, I went back last night. The trip was sorta... okay.
I started at Pawn King. At around 5 p.m. the place was reasonably busy, with a deep line of people waiting for the register. One transaction was happening out on the floor, the customer pawning a box of... something. Other patrons lightly drifted around the space which is clean and organized, even as items like wedding bands and truck tires are only a few feet apart from one another. As you might expect, the place is full of the usual items, from slightly outdated stereo systems to laptops to hundreds of DVDs. (Tempting: LOST seasons one and four for $6 apiece. Passed, but tempted.) The place was mostly quiet, though, and didn’t live up to the smack-talking feel that I desired upon entering.
Just across the way, Herman’s was even busier, with the entire front of the building parked up. I slid my truck around the side and noticed that a young woman was sitting against the building, she being as rough around the edges as the pockmarked road that passed underneath me. I thought twice about staying there, but figured that there’s no place under as much surveillance’s glow as a pawn shop, so I parked and walked in and did not find the disco lights. But Herman’s had plenty of the pawn regulars, too: drum sets, bicycles, and all those doggone DVDs. I looked for some full sets of The Wire, but struck out. Cameras? Minimal, too. I was outta luck.
Sometimes you go to the track to scratch an itch, to get a few shouts and some dollars out of your system. And sometimes you go to the nearby pawn shop for the same sense of possibility, of wonder.
Unfortunately, cable TV’s lied to me. The people inside Pawn King and Herman’s lived inside their own heads, quietly engaging in the buying and selling of goods. The cracks weren’t wise and the mood was contemplative. Media’s taken me for a ride yet again.
