Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe

I used to frequent a little shop in a town just south of where I live called the Golden Nugget. It was located in an old building, you know, one of those old western fronts. I figured it used to be some old millinery shop or general store. Glass windows decorated the whole front entrance, with antiques displayed inside to tempt you in: 1920's dresses on yellowed mannequins, tricycles, paintings, buffet tables, a rocking horse.

Bells rang when I entered through the front door, and there was a smell of musty wood and dust. The floor creaked under my feet. The clerk would give a small, unenthusiastic wave as I stepped in, because she was too busy with a customer to give a proper hello or to care that I was touching the ancient Gibson all propped up next to a broken down amp.

There was a big front room with millions of nicknacks, and a cluster of small rooms for toys and special items in a hallway—I figured the rooms used to be closets of some sort. Then there was another large room in the back and a smaller one way at the end. After looking through all the nicknacks, I'd head to the middle room because that's where all the records were. I swear I found so many good LPs in that room. I could never figure out why anyone would want to get rid of them. For an hour I'd sit there flipping through the whole stack, and become ecstatic when something caught my attention. There was also a good selection of books and videos, but hardly ever anything worth my time.

The back room was for all the breakables. The dainty milk glass and handcrafted furniture; quilts, vases, artwork. I always felt so paranoid going back there, but it was worth the stress just to see all the items that I knew were fresh from someone's house out in the country.

The Golden Nugget is no longer around and I miss it so much. It was the perfect place to go and escape for awhile. You could go there and leave all tingly with the junk you'd found, go across the street and get an ice cream cone, maybe stop at the library or the park, and then head home. Today is one of those days where I need some Nugget therapy. Wish it were still open.


  1. I love those little shoppes with all its treasures. Unfortunately, I have a basement full of my treasures - not so exciting.

    I do have some vinyl 45s and LP from the 60's and 70, gathering dust. Wonder which one of my kids will be lucky enough to inherit them. However, they would have to find them first as they are probably in one of those 10 or so boxes that remain unopened since we moved 9 years ago.

    Go get the ice cream cone Amy. Ice cream cones can cool the mind and soul.

  2. I think we all have a 'Golden Nugget' somewhere in our lives. Mine was a wonderful antique shop in London's Soho. The owner would always give you a few quid for a painting.... he had a 'thing' about young struggling artists!

  3. Maybe that's not a bad idea. The kids and I can go to Baskin Robbins.

    Cro- I wish there were more shop owners like that.

  4. I love those shops too. John has a 'Golden Rivet' in his life.


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