D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
April
2009
Pawn Shops
Page: 2I decide not to pawn my watches (I did not take the other items into Traderman) and move on to Jones Jewelers.
I've done business with Jones before; in fact, it was here that I was told the gold watch was worth $450. I like the store, and the old-fashioned feel and look to it. Service is great, and the staff is professional and courteous. Hal and Sally Jones, the owners, have operated the store in Las Cruces for 17 years, with previous stops in Houston and Kentucky. They are here to stay.
Hal Jones is happy to look at my watches, but in spite of their good condition and vintage, he is unable to even make an offer on them. Boat Girl's watch receives a cursory glance and is immediately dismissed.
He escorts me over to a three-by-three-foot showcase that has a beautiful display of pocket watches, all from estates, including one with a price tag of $1,200. If I was an idiot with money, I immediately identify several that I would like to have myself. But I also see Jones' point: He doesn't need any more watches to sell.
"This is about half of what we have. I bet I have 50 more in back that we don't have room to display." We talk briefly about the price of gold, since about a year earlier I had sold a gold ring here from still another failed relationship from days of yore, thinking I would cash in on the high price of the metal at that time. The "promise" ring designed by my love du jour, which cost $550, netted me $35 and would be melted down, of course. Figuring that $35 was worth more than a sad memento, I took the dough and bought a tank of gas.
As it happens, two wholesale metal and coin buyers are in town the week I try hawking my goods. Both run full-page ads in the daily newspaper, trumpeting their willingness to buy anything of value — coins, paper money, precious metals, wristwatches, some costume jewelry and, yes, even pocket watches.
I head over to the Hotel Encanto, where a representative from International Rarity Collectors has set up shop in one of the hotel's meeting rooms. To my surprise, no one is in the room except for Clay Joiner, a 22-year veteran of such things, set up at a table with a phone, laptop and small scale. Joiner's grip almost breaks my hand when we exchange introductions.
I've brought the pearls (I note on the Mikimoto website that a similar new strand will cost you $2,320), but Joiner quickly tells me that there is no interest in pearls now. "You should take anything you can get," he says.
In all of my visits, except at Jones Jewelers, eBay is clearly stated as a better option to sell all of my items.
Boat Girl's watch is too tired to offer, but Joiner inspects the other two watches closely. He says that both are in wonderful condition and are beautiful examples of formal men's watches of the time. Both are from the turn of the century (the previous one, thank you), and the gold watch's case is indeed gold-plated. "It's gold overlay, and you could get $50-75 for it," he says.
The silver watch holds Joiner's interest for a few brief moments longer before he announces that it was made between 1895 and 1910. If I found "the right collector," I could probably get $100 to $150 for it, thus vanquishing my thoughts of selling it to pay for a small ship cruise to Antarctica.
(The silver watch is a Zenith, the same brand of watch that Mahatma Gandhi carried. Gandhi's watch, made in 1915, had sold four days earlier for the record price of $1.8 million!)
The spoons he examines for a moment, then says that, again, for a collector, the larger ones could probably fetch $10 to $15; the smaller, $5 to $10.
All hopes dashed, I chat him up for a while. Joiner says that he has been busy this trip, but in Las Cruces, he has sent his other staff members on, while keeping his only security person with him.
"I've been coming to Las Cruces since 1995," Joiner says, "and we call these 'special events.'"
He tells me that he has offices in Los Angeles, New York and Chicago, but he is based in Texas.
Collectors seem scared to do much buying at this time, Joiner adds. "But I have no doubt that better days are ahead."
Okay, one more stop, and this time it is across town to the Comfort Inn, where I meet Manny, the representative of Duke's Coins, based in Phoenix. Manny didn't see better days ahead in his previous job in the real-estate business, and took an offer from the owner of Duke's about a year ago. He has been on the road ever since.
An LA Dodgers fan, Manny, like Joiner, is friendly and strikes me as being very open and honest, an observation that I find even truer as we visit. Both men admit that they end up doing more appraising than buying.
He looks over the watches, as he tells me that the most desirable watches have 19 jewels (the Elgin has 17). He figures that I could fetch $40 to $50 for it. Sigh.
Interestingly, through the Elgin Watch website, we are able to look up the very watch we are looking at through its serial number (elginwatches.org/databases/elgin_sn_intro.html) The information Manny finds indicates that it was made between 1909 and 1922 (although a second check indicates that it might be from as early as 1895). He would buy it if I want, but he clearly states that he doesn't want to.
"The family value in the watch is certainly worth more than that," Manny explains.
He puts the spoons on his scale after briefly looking at each one. The total I could get for grandma-in-law's spoons, based on the spot price of silver that day, is $106.56.
"I wouldn't do that either, if I were you," Manny cautions.
The proof coin, a 2006 silver dollar, much to my surprise will already net a whopping $18.97, and the Zenith watch, well, it's worth $40 or $50 also. All of this makes Alberson's offer of $50 at the pawn shop all the more generous.
"Man, I just came from a few days in Pueblo (Colo.), and we were busy all week. There were people filling all the chairs in the room," Manny says as we glance at the small but empty conference room at the Comfort Inn.
Manny says that business has been so-so, and like Joiner, he notes the irony of having two dealers in town at the same time. Both observe that this isn't good for them or for their customers.
Behind him, Manny has a five-gallon-size bucket in which he temporarily stores the items he buys before shipping them off later in the day. The man that Manny talked with before my turn was pleased to have turned a silver chalice he'd found at a garage sale for $3 into a $35 investment.
Manny talks a bit about the industry and says that there is some interest in gold, but it has to be 14k or higher. Pearls, he confirms, are pass. "No one is wearing them now."
But it could be worse. "Be glad you're not trying to sell diamonds." Manny adds. Not only is there no market for diamonds, but they are really nothing more than a gimmick, he says. The world is awash in the shiny stones, and the dealers hold them back on purpose to artificially raise the prices.
I also get a lesson in moizonite, which is a manmade diamond. "Some shadier jewelers will pull a real diamond out of a ring and put a piece of moizonite in the setting instead," Manny tells me.
In all of my marriages, I've only ever bought one small diamond (engagement) ring. I'm glad that I have an excuse to give all of those exes as to why they never got one — if they ever find me.
I pack up my booty, bid Manny farewell, and head for my thankfully paid-for car.
On the way out of the motel lobby, I notice a penny lying on the carpet and pick it up, as I do with all orphan coins that I see.
If I write off the mileage that I log on this trip, I can proclaim that I did, after all, make a profit today.