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.