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Saturday, September 25, 2010

Comic Shop Monogamy is an Oxymoron

By Don M. Ventura

I have a confession to make: I got me a cheatin’ heart. While it would be wonderful to be in a monogamous relationship, time and again I find myself unable to commit. Trust me, I wish I could. It would save on time. And gas.

The victim here is my local comic book shop owner. Let’s call him “Annie.” But Annie is just one in a long line of store owners who have been required to maintain an open relationship with me.

Annie’s been different though. Annie gives me twenty percent off of all of my titles. Forty percent off of trades and graphic novels. If I walk in on a Saturday to refill a hole in a book I’m reading, Annie comes and asks if I got all my books. He’s a real peach.

But Annie never has every book I’m interested in. They never do. “They” being the long list of shop owners who have regularly pulled my titles, but either neglect to pull one or run out of a book by the time I request it. It is here where my commitment to my store begins to fray. When I don’t get a book I want, I become antsy and start making the rounds to find it. Fear of paying a ridiculous amount or wait for a second printing takes over.

Please, don’t mention anything. I think Annie has an idea, but it isn’t something we choose to discuss. He wouldn’t understand.

Just this Wednesday I stopped by after a long day’s work to pick up my books; I had emailed some last minute additions to my regular list but Annie hadn’t responded to let me know he’d pull the books. Lo and behold, Superman/Batman #76 was not with my pulls. I was upset, but I couldn’t say anything. After all, he set aside Skull Crackers #1 and I was afraid I was going to be driving all over town for that one.

So after sunset, I drove by Comics Unlimited in Huntington Beach. I was certain “Roxie” would have it.

Hello!” says Roxie with a warm welcome. I return a guilt ridden smile. Roxie knows the score. The scent of a two-timing comic book enthusiast permeates through the shop. In the back corner I sigh as I clasp the issue I so desired to read. I go to the counter with my single title. Roxie is aware he’s my sloppy seconds.

Later that night I got an email from Annie:

“Hey Don - did you get all the books below...I think I remember dropping a Skullkickers in your box, but I have a Superman Batman stashed behind the counter for someone and I am wondering if it is for you. Please let me know ASAP - thanks, (Annie)”

I felt this big.

One of these days I’m going to sit down and come clean with Annie. I’ll confess that, although he cannot keep me completely satiated, he has filled a hole in both my heart and my wallet.

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