Only places that always say 'Absolutely'
By BOB GREENE
DALLAS -- Right across the Stemmons Freeway from my hotel is the headquarters of an organization you might not know exists:
The National Pawnbrokers Association.
You might not know it exists for a simple reason: Why would pawnbrokers need a national organization? The reputation of pawnshops and pawnbrokers, over the centuries, has been right down at the bottom of the economic totem pole. When a person can't get money anywhere else -- when all hope for a few dollars is gone -- the pawnshop beckons. Take in something that once meant something to you -- a watch, a necklace -- and ask the pawnbroker to give you money for it. Then walk out, feeling low.
At least that has been the stereotype. "Pawnshops and pawnbrokers have always been considered somewhat disreputable," said Tom Horn, executive director of the National Pawnbrokers Association. "You know the image: Dark and dingy shop, bars on the windows, junky, located in a very, very bad part of town." And the stereotype of the pawnbroker himself? "Cigar in his mouth, magnifying glass by his eye, heartless."
Which, Horn said, is exactly the reason that pawnbrokers have formed the national organization: to try to change the image. "To do well today, a pawnshop has to be clean, well lit, and offer a safe environment. We are competing with the Wal-Marts and Targets of the world, and we have to point out what is good about us."
Well, pawnshops may be competing with the Wal-Marts and the Targets when they sell merchandise to people who come in off the street looking for a bargain, but that's not their main reason for being in business. Pawnshops are the place where people go who need money, and need it right now. In that sense, they have more in common with banks and savings-and-loans than they do with retail establishments.
"Except try going to a bank and getting a $70 loan," Horn said. "That's what the average loan is at a pawnshop. Pawnshops are the oldest form of lending known to mankind. Pawnshops are still the quickest, simplest way to get a loan.
"When the banks say 'No' and the savings-and-loans say 'No,' you walk into a pawnshop and the pawnbroker says 'Absolutely!' "
Of course, the pawnbroker says "Absolutely!" because he knows you probably have no choice but to accept the monetary offer he gives you for the possession you have brought in -- the possession you may never see again. According to Horn, the clientele at pawnshops -- there are approximately 16,000 shops in the U.S. -- is becoming more and more white-collar. Why?
Because, like never before, Americans have access to credit cards -- and when they can't pay off the credit card bills they have run up, when they can't maintain the illusion of having endless money, they find themselves going to a pawnshop looking for a few dollars. They don't necessarily want their neighbors to know. But pawnbrokers see these people all the time.
All of that aside, there is also something kind of interesting about walking through a pawnshop, just looking around. "To me, it's like the appeal of a hardware store," Horn said. "I love hardware stores -- I pick up every nut and bolt. The clutter, the variety. And I love going into pawnshops, too."
A lot of people do. A musician friend of mine -- a guitarist named Randell Kirsch -- always seeks out pawnshops when he's on the road. "Pawnshops are the last bastion of non-homogenized America," he said. "You ask where the Greyhound bus station is, and you can be sure that the town pawnshop is within a block of it. You can look around a pawnshop for hours, just thinking about the stories behind all the items."
But those stories are often sad. Pawnbrokers have always heard terrible stories from some of the people who bring in their possessions, hoping for cash. Tom Horn said that one of the reasons pawnbrokers have long had a reputation for being unfeeling is that "When someone comes in and they're crying, it's got to harden you. People tell their stories to a pawnbroker for the same reason they tell their stories to a bartender, I suppose."
And that unhappy reason has something to do with why Randell Kirsch, on the road and spending time meandering through the aisles of pawnshops, has one rule he will not break. He'll take a look at just about any item in the shop, he said.
"But I won't look at the wedding rings."
Chicago Tribune