The Watering Hole
As I mentioned, there were businesses on the ground floor of our apartment building. I dropped in on one religiously once a week. The corner drugstore. I spent my weekly allowance there – a whole quarter.
I don’t know if they filled any prescriptions there, all I was interested in were the comic books immediately on view as you opened the door; and the bubble-gum cards and candy in the display counters at the back.
I rarely made it past the comic rack. Especially if a new Classics Illustrated was on display. Sure, I knew about DC comics from my younger days in Spokane, and now came an acquaintance with Marvel, but I always, always, always looked through the CI titles to check if there might be a number that I did not have.
I used to have dreams about being somewhere new, some other city, and finding an exotic title missing from my collection. And strange to say, some of those dreams came true.
