It’s not the same.
My local comic book store opened in a new, bigger location.
Like, Wal-Mart Super Center Inescapable Labyrinth of Consumer Desire big.
You could call it huge.
Gargantuan, even.
And they don’t even sell comic books anymore.
Just Pokemon and Magic the Gathering and Yu-Gi-Oh and baseball cards and the inevitably doomed re-launch of Illuminati New World Order.
They have comic books.
They’re all in a great big pile in the back.
You can take as many as you want for free.
But then you’re required to walk back to the front of the store while all the trading card gamers throw rocks at you.
It sucks.
I found myself missing the older, hipper version of my local comic book store.
So, I went back to the old location which was tucked away inside a grimy, nondescript strip mall.
It was still open.
I’m like, “What?!”
I go inside.
There’s just a broom with some stick-on googly eyes minding the till.
I wave hello.
The googly eyed broom pitches me on pre-ordering The New Dream #50 which is a double-sized issue featuring a holografix foil cover in a sealed plastic bag featuring a trading card loose in the bag.
I consider this carefully.
I had never read a single issue of The New Dream in my life.
The googly eyed broom tells me #50 is supposed to be a great jumping on point for new readers.
Who am I to argue with that?
I place my pre-order . . . but then I slouch back to the new location.
I figure I’ll drop some heavy dollars on the inevitably doomed Illuminati New World Order re-launch.
It’s gonna work out this time.
No one’ll ever throw a rock at me ever again.
I can feel it.
