Tag Archives: Gold

Gold, Gold Everywhere

22 Apr

Yep, when I read this I get a bit twisted into a knot. Not a small, cute, I-learned-this-in-Boy-Scouts-knot, no. Rather a tight, peeved, nostrils flaring kinda knot.

See, I’ve discussed being flat broke and struggling before on this blog (see “starving artist” or “being broke” tagged posts) and I sadly resorted to selling not some but all of my random gold. I had gold from 1985, necklaces and a few rings. There was even a ring (perhaps a wedding band) I once found in 1997-98 in a hallway near the women’s bathroom in a high rise building I worked in in Arlington, Va. I did everything I could to find the owner. I typed up a flier and put it in the hallways, taped a copy in the elevator. No takers. So I ended up holding on to this ring for years.

I even sold that.

It was about two summers ago when I kept seeing WE BUY GOLD! signs everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I think I saw one on a funeral home foyer. At first I scoffed at such claims. TOP PRICE!! My personal stash of gold was tucked away– the ’85 gold, the found wedding band, the cartouches I purchased in Egypt with mere touches of gold on the lettering. I was desperate and there were WE BUY GOLD!! signs everywhere. I had ignored them for as long as I could; it was time to act.

So I sold my stash o’ gold to a jewelry store in Fairfax, Va. Yep. Even as I was walking through the door I felt dirty, odd, disheveled. I was carrying in a name necklace that I had since 1985. I mean, I was probably wearing that necklace when Pretty in Pink was in theaters. I’m positive that I watched Ally Sheedy throw that awful piece of “pickled” bologna against the wall in Saturday detention in The Breakfast Club in that very necklace that bore my name on it in a flowery gold square shape that I purchased all by myself in Georgetown.

SIGH.

It was all too much. But I took my bits o’ jewelry in and laid the tiny pile on the counter. Suddenly several sets of eyes shifted towards me and then my pile o’ gold. Hands swiftly touched the jewelry while it was examined and I think sniffed by a man in a suit.

Long story shortened, I left there with probably $76.12 in my pocket and to be perfectly honest the 12 cents is an embellishment.

I felt even dirtier and crappy and I imagined that’s what people all over the nation must feel like when they take a family heirloom or their precious whatever in to a pawn shop because right then and there they needed gas or to pay their light bill or get their car fixed.

So now I’m gold-less and still a starving artist and when I see a John Hughes movie I get all misty not only because I miss the ’80’s but my gold got not only underpriced but lost with it.

I still have my silver, though. All 5.8 pieces of it. And nobody’s gettin’ it.

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