When I was traveling in Rochester in the Upstate of New York, the once-mighty city that headquarters Kodak but now dissolved in the Rust Belt, I encountered this little pawnshop sitting in a forgotten plaza. There are no signals of abandonment, nor indicators that the shop was duly maintained. Only the neon ads still work perfectly, shedding lights to the empty parking lots in front of the shop. In this very moments that brought me the nostalgia of the unexperienced golden ages in the history of the United States, a random wanderer stepped into the frame and seemed to be enjoying him/herself by hopping forward on the stoppers.