1 /5 Ben Johnson: Not even close. This place looks like a thrift shop from 50 years ago. It is what a hoarder would own if he decided to sell his stuff. The ceiling has water stains, and the place smells stale. It was obviously and “off” day, as the bicycles which normally adorn the store front were still in the store near the entrance at almost 2:00 in the afternoon. When I walked in, I had to make myself known, as the two Hispanic women behind the counter didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Apparently, they were too busy: one texting and talking to her coworker, while the other was on the computer. Any remark I made about any items was met with terse replies. Read that as “rude.” Soon after I walked in I got the hint and browsed quietly, keeping my comments to myself, as I knew they weren’t interested in anything I had to say. There was more JUNK in this “pawn shop” than I have ever seen since Melba-the previous owner, who passed away ( she was awesome, y’all, and she kept the place lively and professional) ran it. This place was as organized and tidy as a crackhead mobile home park-which is where I figure most of the stuff came from, due the the actual value of most of the items on display. This place is truly where dreams go to die. I strongly recommend going anywhere else but here. Not a fan, not impressed, and definitely NOT going back.