We usually know them the moment they walk in the door.

Their shoulders stoop ever so slightly, their gait is unnatural, often ashamed.

Some have forced cheery smiles on their faces, others have a defiant stance, ready to spar. But they all seem to have the same air about them- they’ve fallen on harder times, and they are in need of money.

They come to sell us their gold.

Every day we see them now, with the downturn in the economy and the steep rise in the price of gold. Every single one has a need, every one has a story;

“Need to pay my property taxes…”

“Getting divorced, need lawyer money, ring isn’t worth anything anyhow…”

“Mom died, we’re just trying to settle up the estate…”

“Got to make the car payment…”

“Lost my job…”

“Need to bail my kid out of jail…”

“Just cleaning out my jewelry box…”

It is sometimes difficult to not become indifferent to the various plights of these people. After all, we have all been in a situation like this at one point in time or another. Myself- more times than I can count. I smile, nod, offer a word or two of consolation…

And I pull out the scale.

Because, you see, no matter how long ago your grandma bought that wedding ring, no matter what the story is behind that gold chain, no matter how much you spent on that atrocious brooch… it all comes down to weight.

An average wedding band weighs around six grams. At today’s gold market, that means that I will offer you less than fifty dollars. “But!” you splutter, upset with me, “I paid four times that much for it! And gold is UP!”

Sure, gold’s up. Sure, you paid more originally. You paid for someone to cast that wedding band, or die-strike it. You paid for a jeweler to put a fine polish on it, a store to stock it, an employee to stand around until you were ready to buy it. You paid, although you don’t know it, for a box and a receipt and the lights burning over your head when you signed that receipt. I can’t pay you for those amenities, I didn’t use them.

That’s how business works.

And now, I have to take this thing in, covered in scratches and dents. I can’t sell a used ring- it’s only good for meltdown now. I have to put it in my safe for 2 weeks, according to Michigan Precious Metals Law. I have to sit on it while you go and spend your fifty bucks. Then I have to wait until I have a decent enough of a pile to send off to the smelter, because he’s going to charge me a fee just to melt it all into a glob and core test the karat value.

It’s not pure gold you’ve brought me, you know. It’s 14k, which translates to 58.5% pure Au. This is just a bit more than half. The rest is alloy, metal mixed in with the gold to make it stronger, cheaper, more affordable for you. Now I have to pull that alloy out of the metal. The smelter is going to burn it off, leaving a fine mist of gold dust which will be run through a cyanide bath or something like it. Then, for me to be able to use it again, I need a whole fresh batch of alloy to re-mix it with. And, I have to keep paying my employees, and my light bill, and my gas bill, and my own property taxes, and the mortgage. I have to keep it up so that when you are doing better, when you’re on your feet again and ready to buy a nice new gold bracelet- I will still be here with my neon OPEN sign flickering in the window, ready to serve you.

So come on in with your handful of gold. I’ll know what you want before you even open your mouth. You’ll pull that tattered little box, or bag, or baby food jar out of your purse or pocket, and I’ll bow my head over the pile of glitter. I’ll pick through it and find what’s real. You might argue with me whether or not something is genuine, but I’ve been looking at metals since I was twelve, I know what I’m looking at, and I’ll get my little chemical set to back me up. You might tell me your hard-luck story, and I will smile and nod and commiserate, but I cannot pay you more than my set gram price for the day.

It’s nothing personal. I’m not in business to make me rich, but neither am I a charitable organization.