He’s known from his cheesy TV commercials as "The Cashman" and "The Loan Arranger," but the parade of characters and oddballs trying to get through jeweller Russell Oliver’s locked double doors on Eglinton Ave. W. these days is no publicity stunt.
"Hello, do you have something to sell? Do you have gold?" he asks bewildered-looking customers at the entrance before they are allowed into the wacky Cashman’s world. He buzzes you in through the second door if you look and sound on the level.
Frankly some folks don’t, but with bullion on a bull run – despite last week’s dip from the recent $1,000 (U.S.) an ounce milestone – he knows it’s more lucrative to give people a shot at turning their gold into cash than it is to turn them away.
"I’m negotiable on everything. I’m flexible, and it’s brought me so much extra business," he says, noting that business has doubled in the last year as word spread that gold was inching up.
"It’s ridiculously busy," Oliver cheerfully boasts in his trademark South African accent. "It used to be that Christmas was the crazy time in the jewellery world, but this February and March has been like Christmas for me."
Surprisingly, there isn’t one piece of jewellery for sale in the place, located just west of Avenue Rd. The felt-lined glass display cases are empty. That’s because Oliver, along with his eldest son Justin (jokingly nicknamed the "Cash Kid" for obvious reasons), only buys items now or loans money against them – like a pawn shop – finding it more profitable in the midst of boom times for precious metals.
"The ’80s and the mid-’90s were all about selling. People still come here thinking they can buy and they’re looking for a steal," says Justin, who also buys and sells to other jewellery dealers and is trying to establish a business in Miami.
Of course as a big-time buyer, his dad is trying to convince everyone that the gold price is heading further down, despite the fact that the trend is up. Some analysts say it will reach upwards of $2,000 in this metals cycle while gold investment guru Rob McEwen is even saying it could hit $5,000 in the next five years.
"It’s either going to go down or stay the same for a while. If it goes up too fast it always comes down," says Oliver, in a crystal ball-like prediction the day before gold went into a tailspin.
And after 40 years in the bling business, Oliver has seen and heard it all. Last Monday, just before the price of gold dipped 8 per cent, was no exception.
There were the couples who needed money to pay the mortgage, some people who inherited coins and jewellery, mothers with kids in strollers looking for diaper money, seniors with old dentures and gold teeth, competitors masquerading as customers, and even sad stories of life-threatening illnesses.
One 40-something man wearing a nearly new Rolex Yachtmaster makes the strange request for a $4,000 loan – all in 20-dollar bills – on his shiny steel and platinum watch in order to help out "a friend" who needs to refill an independently owned automatic teller machine of all things.
With an interest rate of 5 per cent a month on pawns, Oliver goes for it, and the lady at the cash window counts out piles of bills and takes the timepiece. Cashman says 90 per cent of people who want a loan will return for their items.
"It’s their stuff," he explains.
Linda Benns, whose husband recently died, drove in from Alliston to visit a sick relative in hospital and decided it was time to cash in her spouse’s 10-carat-gold bracelet that he bought on vacation in Martinique five years ago, along with some other trinkets she had that were collecting dust in a jewellery box.
"It’s no use to me, and gold is valuable now," she notes.
Another woman and her husband come in from Georgetown, explaining they want to go on vacation in Tuscany before he succumbs to a recent diagnosis of cirrhosis of the liver online payday loan. They dump two zip-lock bags full of gold jewellery – including a gold thimble with an amethyst tip, pocket watches and costume jewellery – on one of the trays and Oliver quickly sifts through it all.
He carefully studies it through the foldable magnifying glass hanging around his neck, making offers on some big chains and rings and tossing aside the gold-plated stuff with a line from Johnny Depp’s character in Donnie Brasco: "It’s a fugazi" – meaning it’s a fake.
"We spent our lives raising our children and sending them off to school, now it’s our turn to do something for us," explains Christy Graham.
"These sob stories are expensive for me, but I’m in a good mood today," says Oliver, sending the couple on their way with about $2,000, enough for the plane tickets to Italy.
Another guy comes in with close to $5,000 in loonie-sized, gold Iranian coins. He’s asked to return Saturday when the coin expert is in. Then a college student in jeans and a ski jacket produces a commemorative gold coin from the 1976 Montreal Olympics, saying he found it while he was spring cleaning.
"Take it easy, Cashman," he says, waving goodbye to Oliver after stuffing his wallet with a couple hundred dollars.
One man walks to the counter with a woman and yanks the diamond ring right off her ring finger, demanding to know what they’ll give him. Justin, the Cash Kid, regrettably has to tell them the diamond isn’t worth much because it’s brown and has a line in it, so they leave without a deal.
Then a cheerful elderly man and his wife dump a box full of stuff on to the tray, including his old dentures that have some gold fillings. But he didn’t have enough in the tooth department to translate into coin.
"Every day I get bars, bricks, coins, chains and teeth," Oliver says, laughing. "As you can see there’s a steady stream of people and we are not even a jewellery store anymore."
Later, when a woman unsuccessfully tries to push a stroller through the double doors, Justin goes outside to check out her necklace and bracelet. They do a cash deal right on the sidewalk.
"That’s what you call curb-side service," jokes the Cashman.
Oliver doesn’t mind wheeling and dealing on diamonds, platinum and palladium, but he’s mainly into gold, so much so that he’s thinking of changing his name to "GoldMan" so people get the point.
He doesn’t have much use for silver either.
With some of the questionable characters swinging by, Oliver is happy he’s not still in the sales business (see "A Gold Bug’s Life," left).
People come from far and wide to visit, thanks to the $10 million he’s spent on corny ads since 1995, including his latest with what he calls "sizzling hot" girls dancing in the background while he sings: "I’m the Cashman . . . Give you money for your gold."
"It’s paid off. The people don’t stop coming."
Adds son Justin: "I’m always amazed by how many people know him, from Muskoka to Miami. They even ask for his autograph."
"They quickly find out how accurate I am and how fast I am. It really only takes a matter of seconds to do a deal," notes Oliver.
Once he gets your gold, it’s quaintly separated in muffin tins by carat, from 10 to 24. Pure gold is 24 carats, and everything is weighed in grams. Then it’s sent off to the refiner where it gets melted into bars and bricks that eventually land in the market all over again.
He factors in a commission on sales of about 20 per cent. And don’t expect a receipt on a sale, but you must bring in some ID to prove you are at least 18 years of age.
At 60, Oliver’s living a comfortable life with his wife and dogs in a "nice house" that gold built in Rosedale.
"This has been the best year yet for the Cashman."
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