City
Pawn shops in Toronto
Toronto pawn shops litter Church St. In fact, Church Street between Queen and Shuter is one of the most concentrated strips of buying and selling in Toronto. Besides a couple of nail salons and the odd novelty store, the street is all pawn shops. Usually I'd pass nonchalantly by these shops (quickly, if it was at night) not thinking twice about their origin, but last week I decided to tackle the block and see if I could find out how it became the downtown epicenter of pawning.
Pen in hand, I left the familiar pavement of Queen St. East and entered my first pawnshop on Church. It was everything I'd imagined it would be: glass countertops, gold jewelry, wall-to-ceiling antiques, and tube TVs all tuned into Ellen. Yes, a hoarder's paradise, complete with daytime television. I approached the counter where a man in a Mr. Rogers' style sweater was talking to a customer holding a watch. "You want to keep it? Keep it!" The customer fumbled with the watch. "No? So sell!" I could see I would need furious concentration to understand the complexities of the pawn negotiation. "You take it home, let me know what you decide."
The customer walked out, and it was all me. "Yes, can I help you?" he asked. I put on my best, 'please don't reject me outright' smile, and asked if I could talk to him about his business. "My business?" he said. "I don't work here!" I heard a chuckle behind me from a tech dissecting a piece of audio equipment. Since the pawning Mr. Rogers was grinning, I decided I'd play along. "Really?" I asked. "Now I suspect that's not true."
"Ah, you're a suspicious girl!" Before I could assure this jovial trickster of my good nature, a horde of teenage-looking boys piled in. I was immediately abandoned. "Yes, boys. What do you have for me?" I got the impression they were regular sellers. One of the boys reached into his knapsack and pulled out an iTouch. I fumbled with some keychains in a vain attempt to pretend I wasn't eavesdropping. "What is this, an iPhone?" "No," replied one of the boys. An iPod."
"Uh huh. Where'd you get that?" Some mumbling. "Does it have a charger? Why doesn't it say iPhone?" As the boys tried to break down the difference between an iPhone and an iTouch, I looked helplessly at the Big Mouth Billy Bass on the wall. At least he'd talk back to me. Five minutes later, with only some progress on the iPhone/iTouch distinction lesson, I decided to move on.
The next shop was a little more organized, and a lot more open. Open in terms of space, that is. Behind the counter at the back end of the shop were several desks where a few women sat, typing away. One got up as I approached the cash. I decided to low-ball this one. "Hi," I told her. "I'm writing an article about the neighborhood and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the history of this building." The building--not the business. A little less intrusive, right?
"Oh," she said. You'll have to talk to the owner."
"OK," I replied. "Is the owner here?"
"Uh, let me check." The woman moved back and whispered in the ear of another woman sitting at a desk. They both stared at me in the way you're not supposed to when talking about someone on the subway. She returned to the counter.
"No, they're not here."
I pretended I didn't just see her just conspicuously negotiate with a colleague mere feet from me a moment ago. "OK, well can I ask you a few questions, then? How long has this shop been here?
"Thirty years. OK, thanks"
"And how--" She cut me off.
"Really, you should talk to the owner. OK thanks."
"Can I just as you..." I trailed off as she vigorously shook her head.
And on to the next. This shop was narrow, empty, with a man and a woman sitting silently facing each other behind the counter. They apologetically rejected my invitation to chat, and sent me on my way. The next shop required a buzz for entry, so I pressed the button and waited in the cold. Finally, a man in a too-tight white undershirt appeared from the back room and let me in. He was stone-faced as I explained that I wasn't actually interested in buying a gold-plated broach. "No." He replied. "Just no."
And it went on like that. Not since my first week with braces back in middle school have I faced such vehement rejection. Needless to say, it left me with some suspicions about the ongoings between Queen and Shuter, and overall disappointment about my fruitless historical quest. Though while I got few answers about the origin of pawn row, I now know--finally--where to find a Big Mouth Billy Bass.
Photos by Dennis Marciniak
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I've been in these shops a number of times looking for old camera lenses and have often ran into walls of coldness and uninterested gazes that you did. So with that in mind, I kinda feel let down. Your article didn't inform or enlighten me to anything more that what the average person's experience would be in these shops. Which, truthfully based on what was written would have put me off entering the doors of these little curio shops.
While I applaud you for leaving your comfort zone, a little more investigative work would have been awesome. I realize you're paid the same for a well researched article as you would be for an article that you put in the minimum amount of work, and that's understandable. However if you're pursuing journalism or any professional writing as a career you've just done yourself a rather huge disservice by not doing some foot work to make a solid article.
Based on this article alone, I must say your actual writing style is quite enjoyable, maybe just a little more effort on bulking up the content could be a new goal? Best of luck on your future articles.
Maybe she could have pulled ownership records on the property tax roll?
Interviewed the boys trying to sell the stolen iPod?
Polled customers entering as to what their needs and/or mood was today?
What is this a choose your own adventure?
You know, research.
I was just saying a little research to give the article some meat would have been nice.
Maybe some digging into why is there is one whole block in Toronto's downtown where one whole side of the street is nothing but pawnbrokers? Calling a head and making an appointment with the shop owners for an interview, and appeal to their pride and ask them about their business? People who own their own businesses love to talk about them because they are proud of it, not thei minimum wage earning staff.
I was just offering constructive criticism. Sorry if I came off as an ass.
It's actually pretty fun to spend an hour or two looking around these shops. Just think of something you're interested in buying as a pre-text and go to each one.
There is the "iPhone" and then there is the "iPod touch"
this wasn't an article about the history of pawn shops on church, more like a first hand experience. That doesn't require research. If you guys think you can do better, contact Derek and see if you can be writer for him. until then loosen up :D
You all read this website for free. The nitpicking is obnoxious.
...because that is what you are implying when you conflate criticism of an informational article online with being "owed something." Quite the leap there.
Agree with the above commenters that McTamney's is an excellent shop with a long history. Did you try calling them for an actual interview?
That's a typical problem with the pawn shops "around the corner", I'm afraid... That's why many people simply avoid them. Try some online pawnshops and let us know how it went ;) They're even on the news now.
Good luck!
I frequently walk by to visit the bigger shops, like McTamneys. My family has been going to this neighborhood for quite some time. Lately I've been around there looking for guitars and sound equiptment. What I've seen in the article and here in the comments leads me to believe that most of you have either never stepped foot into one of these shops, or did so with great bias. The neighborhood may not be the prettiest, and not everyone can handle folks with mental disabilities and/or addictions, but if you have ever been in a tight bind like I have then you might also know how invaluable these places can be, and given my somewhat embarrassing situation I was treated with a great deal of respect.