hive
11-16-2006, 03:02 PM
I am truly heartbroken, fellow dromies. Last week, I went back to my home town of Wilmington, Massachusetts. Why, you ask? Because here I would revive my love for comic books, which I have not felt since I was a wee little boy. I would go back to "Batter Up," the "comic books, sports cards and collectibles" store which I knew and respected from my childhood. Nowhere else would it feel appropriate to relive such a dream. I was psyched to pick up all the comic books and graphic novels which had been recommended by my beloved Geekdrome over the many months. But little did I know that the "Batter Up" of my childhood had become an almost purely sports card and sports collectibles store, with 5 fat guys in Red Sox hats standing around the counter at any given time of day.
I walk in, the shop regulars immediately stop talking and look at me quizzically, knowing I'm obviously not one of them, and not here to do business in sports cards, or hours of RED SAX talk around the crusty white counter. I quickly turned into the section where there were once three whole shelves, front and back, of shiny new comic books of every genre. But not today. These were toys. Big dumb toys. And not even cool Marvel action figures, just those cute little collectible baseball bats and mini-helmets and shit. I knew there had to be a mistake.
So I look around the store to find anything that resembles a comic book, and in the far back of the store is a singular shelf, front and back, of comic books. But the closer I walk, the sooner I find out that this is a joke of a comic book stand. Anything here is no newer than 6 months old, all of them jumbled around and misplaced. My friends, I was appalled. Needless to say, I would not find what I desired in Batter Up this day. Disgusted and disappointed, I walked back to the front of the store where there was a drink fridge. I took my Jolly Rancher soda (which was crappy as hell) and approached the counter, sandwiched between the judging eyes of aging Massachusetts sports fans. "1 dollar please."
"Thanks," I said quietly. And thanks for killing my dreams, along with the image I used to have of this once fine establishment. Thanks for the hundreds of dollars I'll save NOT buying comic books in your store, you bastards! I walked to the door, took one last look at hopes fallen, and went out into the misty night air, never to return to this wretched excuse for a comic book store, ever again.
I walk in, the shop regulars immediately stop talking and look at me quizzically, knowing I'm obviously not one of them, and not here to do business in sports cards, or hours of RED SAX talk around the crusty white counter. I quickly turned into the section where there were once three whole shelves, front and back, of shiny new comic books of every genre. But not today. These were toys. Big dumb toys. And not even cool Marvel action figures, just those cute little collectible baseball bats and mini-helmets and shit. I knew there had to be a mistake.
So I look around the store to find anything that resembles a comic book, and in the far back of the store is a singular shelf, front and back, of comic books. But the closer I walk, the sooner I find out that this is a joke of a comic book stand. Anything here is no newer than 6 months old, all of them jumbled around and misplaced. My friends, I was appalled. Needless to say, I would not find what I desired in Batter Up this day. Disgusted and disappointed, I walked back to the front of the store where there was a drink fridge. I took my Jolly Rancher soda (which was crappy as hell) and approached the counter, sandwiched between the judging eyes of aging Massachusetts sports fans. "1 dollar please."
"Thanks," I said quietly. And thanks for killing my dreams, along with the image I used to have of this once fine establishment. Thanks for the hundreds of dollars I'll save NOT buying comic books in your store, you bastards! I walked to the door, took one last look at hopes fallen, and went out into the misty night air, never to return to this wretched excuse for a comic book store, ever again.