Brent’s Unique Shop

This little lady loves to shop, and unlike some people who turn their noses up at «used», I adoringly covet neato things, period. This spells out B-​I-​G T-​R-​O-​U-​B-​L-​E because in addition to all the gazillion rad (and not so rad) things being manufactured tooooday, there’s a history of like, you know, thousands of years of shit that humans have been producing which means my potential for acquisitions are ENDLESS.
One look at Brent’s and I’ll bet you my entire life savings, 401K and Roth IRA that these people are in the same camp. They’ve got the most random collection of «antiques», junk and tchotchkes (every time I write that word I have to google it, and according to my review search it’s been at least five times. Evidently, I smoked my memory away in college.) But anyways, they’ve got stuff. Right. And it’s piled high to the ceiling.
I’m sure it happens that people make their way through the dusty piles to find some gem and bring it to the counter and the cute little brown grandma would say, «Gee whiz, I didn’t even know we had that.» And you’ll pay the silly price because it’s got to be a small miracle that anyone besides the old fella out front in the rocking chair’s friend named Mike drops by this no-man’s stretch on San Pablo.
And now don’t you feel special? You’re bestowing appreciation on some forgotten object, you’re cultivating good vibes in the world. I got a brass 1939 New York World’s Fair ashtray and a three-​point deer horn, and I feel awesome about it.

Overpriced junk crammed into a small space and really bad attitude from the woman «working» there.

As much as I wanted to like this place, which is as full of random crap as any hoarder could dream of, it really was terrible. The prices were mostly higher than what I would expect for a junk shop ($ 65 for a broken lamp? $ 30 for a stained, torn little handbag?) And don’t try to haggle — when I asked if they would take $ 15 instead of $ 20 for a small hat, the owner gave me an incredulous look and said very nastily, «No, but you can go get some more money. Or put it back.» Ouch. Okkkay. Walking away now.