Uncle Funkys Boards
Business Details
About
The funhouse buzz of hand trucks rattling down West 4th still fades by the time you drop into Charles Street’s basement alcove; skateboard shops this tucked under townhouses don’t lean on foot traffic at all. The afternoon light from the area’s single window skims across perforated ramp posters mounted near the door—nothing flashy, just weathered art that puts the focus on decks and wheels. Inside, the overhead fluorescents hold steady on wheels, bearings and hardware, every stack lit like a mechanic’s bench so nothing hides under a shadow.
A cramped stockroom hallway opens into the selling space where nose and tail graphics line the wall above slim aisles. You can still step up to the desk under the ceiling ductwork without your cap brushing a shelf, and the address—128 Charles St Basement, New York, NY 10014—isn’t yelling at the block, it just sits there like an afterthought that becomes the only landmark you need once you’re searching map-to-plot. Grip sheet swatches lay flat on the counter next to trimming shears, all waiting to become tomorrow’s day-in-progress.
A couple of their curated services feel practically built for the commuter—custom grip installation takes the squeeze out of seat-belt railings on the D train; you can drop off bearings for overnight cleaning while you’re down here. Gear assembly always finishes before sunset so you’re not reaching for a hex wrench in Prospect Park dusk; they also keep a rotating board wall so you can wheel a demo before you buy—tiny graffiti tags hug the boards instead of brochures. If the cone tool and nose guard catch your eye, they’ll box everything up so it rides home against your backpack instead of rattling in a paper sack.
After you leave, the West Village’s stoops stay busy and the Charles Street traffic club of tourists slows to one steady hum—adding directions is simpler than asking another passerby. They’ll pick up the desk line (646) 895-9943 if the board doesn’t spin right the morning after; sometimes the only thing between a perfect ollie and a bruised ego is one more bearing buffer.