2 Outta 3 Ain’t Bad

I love checking out comic shops. Sure, it’s a gamble; you’re as likely to get a crummy little craphole as you are a slice of geek heaven. But it’s cool to walk in, pause for just a moment to take in the layout, take in the vibe of the place, and commence browsing.

Looking for one’s own comics only adds to the excitement.

I’m out and about this weekend, and my brother and I visited three shops in the same town (or pair of towns crammed together — I’m unclear as to how it works as there’s nothing but cornfields around it/them anyway). This is also a college town, so I expected some cool places. For the most part, I wasn’t disappointed.

The first was small but surprisingly clean and organized. Their titles ran alphabetically down the walls regardless of publisher, and sure enough, Werewolves: Call of the Wild had a nice spot down in the corner. #3 was up front, and there were a couple copies each of 1 and 2 behind them. One of the owners happened to be in, so I introduced myself, thanked him, and offered to sign his store stock. He told me I’d best contact his partner, who handles the bulk of the comic sales and ordering.

This attitude surprises most people. My brother, for example, wanted to tell the counter jock “hey, you’ve got a celebrity in your store!” The reality is, most retailers just aren’t impressed. If I were Grant Morrison or someone of that caliber, maybe they’d jump. Maybe. But the reality is I’m just another schmuck taking time out of their day to pimp a comic lost in the shuffle on their shelves, possibly one not selling well enough and taking up space to boot. My brother called it a snub, but it’s just the way things are for me.

Not that it stopped me from buying anything. I snagged Casanova issues 3-5 and The Nightly News.

The next stop was a mish-mash of shops that just happened to carry comics. One of their stores was a cluttered bookstore, with the new books upstairs. You follow some signs and go down the stairs into a basement where the used books are, and then there’s the comics. Box upon box of back issues, but precious little in terms of new books. In fact, I don’t think they even carried the full line-up of the Big Two, which is just about a given for a full-fledged comic shop. So no, they didn’t have my book in stock.

I walked out of there with The Damned 1 & 2 and Criminal 1 & 2. I was surprised they stocked them, and can only figure someone there must be a crime fan. Their space is so tight they’d already cycled the first issue of each into the back-issue bins.

Last came a larger shop that also dealt in games, and there was quite a crowd running some games in the back. Their books were divided by publisher, but the borders were fuzzy and it seemed even imprints like Vertigo go their own chunk of shelf. The indies were way on the other side of the shop, and I found two copies of W:CotW #2 there.

My brother wanted to harass the geeks in back. He only knows the unwashed, female-fearing breed who are easily intimidated. I didn’t bother to correct him. Maybe some day I’ll just drag him down to an Archon instead, where most of the geeks live for pussy and booze.

I picked up The Other Side 1 & 2 there, half out of interest and half to check out possible competition for Wounded Gods.

In the end, two out of the three shops stocked my book.

I can live with numbers like that.