This portion of Central Avenue seems to have fallen into a serious state of disrepair. At the intersection with Wyoming, it looks like street signs haven't been painted here since the Eisenhower years... nor has the pocked pavement been repaired since the Carter administration. Virtually every other door and window seems to be nailed closed. Seedy motels advertising rates "by the hour" line the street here amidst vacant lots serving as car graveyards. The charred remains of what was once an old, dilapidated warehouse blacken one lot.
The businesses intermixed with the low-end rentals here consist mainly of liquor stores, bars, pawn and thrift shops, and the aforementioned cheap motels. An old warehouse, windows boarded over, broods in the center of the block. Drug dealers and panhandlers make up the bulk of the free enterprise. About every other streetlight is out, so at night, much of the street's illumination comes only from flickering neon and traffic lights, which throw an exotic, unearthly glow onto the street, giving it the air of a woman who has begun to age but whose charm is as alluring as ever.