I'm sure at some point in my life, it must have been a sin to go into a pawn shop. At least for a "girl". Kind of like entering the Erotic Museum, or a bar. Heavy religion kind of does things like that to you.
We looked at cheapie bicycles yesterday. They have them at several places around town. Its sort of a mixed bag, do you buy a good ride? Or do you buy a cheapie in case it gets stolen? Or a second hand junker?
The cheapie new ones didn't appeal to me. Heavy. You have to assemble them from the box. The second hand stores didn't have a one. Jim suggested a pawn shop. Whaa?
At Super Pawn, located in the middle of a respectable shopping center, was a Trek bike sitting in front of the entrance. Hey!
I entered the place expecting a dim interior with a tough guy wearing diamond rings, a cigar hanging out of his mouth in front of a counter filled with handguns, rings and watches. I guess the pawn shops I've seen from movies are from days long past. This was a modern building, with well organized items of every sort, generators, electronics, sporting goods, television sets. There were rifles in a case on the wall and a case with jewelry. I didn't see a hand gun. It had a spacious floor with two women helpers and a guy handling the cash register.It didn't feel sinful at all. Dang! I kind of wish it had been the place of my imagination, just for the fun of it.
The bike was a real bargain, but it needed a bit of work that we aren't prepared to do on the road, or wait for a bike shop. So, we passed on it.
I got a comment yesterday from a reader who said it appeared to her that my bike was stolen in San Luis. NOT! For the record, it was here in Yuma where we are parked at the American Legion. Jim attached his severed cable to a post at the Legion warning others about the possibility of theft. This morning we are moving to a friend's driveway for one night before heading back to Las Vegas.
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