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[jough]

I'm a member but I've never actually attended more than one meeting.

I can invite pretty much whomever, though, I think.  Anyone want in?

[AlohaDawg]

I'm not sure. Was Asia at the meeting you went to attended?

[AugustWest]

PhD in quotation marks is definitely the best part of the strip. It shows Ray is smart enough to have discovered a loophole where you can get all the benefits of looking like a doctor, without all the hassle of actually becoming one.

We had a state politician here that changed his name to "Bob Smith CPA" because he was running for State Treasurer and they wouldn't list him on the ballot with CPA after his name.

[melack]

We had a state politician here that changed his name to "Bob Smith CPA" because he was running for State Treasurer and they wouldn't list him on the ballot with CPA after his name.

I can only image this bold move led to his winning by a landslide?

[side_show]

I was invited to join by a jerk who was a regular customer at the comic shop I used to work at.  Instead of filling out the test, I just circled all the questions that I felt were socio-economically or culturally exclusionary, and filled the empty space with sarcastic comments.  I can't remember if I gave it back to him or not though, but he never bothered me again.

[littlefallsmets]

Oh, sweet baby Christ in a crib, the stories I've heard from women who've worked in comic book stores... the people awkwardly hitting on them in ways that only dorks could possibly believe as something with which you'd hit on a woman...

Such as, offering them Mensa memberships...

[theinevitable]

no, man, you don't get it! 'cause, like, then she'd know that I was a Mensa member! see?

whatever, dude. it'll totally work.

[side_show]

Oh, sweet baby Christ in a crib, the stories I've heard from women who've worked in comic book stores... the people awkwardly hitting on them in ways that only dorks could possibly believe as something with which you'd hit on a woman...

Such as, offering them Mensa memberships...

Oh, man... don't... don't get me started on the stories... there are so many... I was basically the only member of the opposite sex (other than their mothers) that some of those boys ever talked to on a regular basis, and I was the provider of comics, so I was basically their goddess.

[pmcd9]

I was basically the only member of the opposite sex (other than their mothers) that some of those boys ever talked to on a regular basis, and I was the provider of comics, so I was basically their goddess.

How fortunate for these fellas to have you, not only beautiful, but kind.  I wonder how many of them still think about you?

~Paul

[side_show]

I actually had one guy who was so obsessed with the proper handling of his comics that he wouldn't let any other staff members but myself and the manager touch his comics.  He was horribly rude to my coworkers if they tried to help him and would demand my help even if I was busy with something else.  I'll always remember one day, the total look of horror on his face when he came in to find me, my boss and another coworker all hunched over a bucket of KFC, our hands glistening.  He was obsessive to the point of scary.  In spite of your sweet "kind" comment, Paul, I have to tell everyone that one day he ordered the official, full sized Zena Warrior Princess costume, which was over $300 if memory serves, and that I told my boss that this guy was probably going to tie his mother up and force her to wear it.  He was such a mean, mentally off kilter guy that my boss was really bothered by the possibility of my suggestion.

Also, with all the guys obsessed with the slightest crinkle or fold, storing them in their acid-free-backing-boarded, mylar bags, in boxes that were guaranteed to be UV safe, the one customer who I truly loved, was a guy who religiously read Superman.  He'd come in, buy his comics, roll/scrunch them up tightly into a tube-like roll, and just jam them into his over-stuffed back pack.  It was so counter to everything else I saw that it was punk rock... almost erotic.

I'm actually giggling to myself right now, remembering all the naughty ways I posed our many action figures.  Let's just say Mr. T was a pitcher, and Batman was a catcher, and Snow White was involved in a very not-for-Disney way.  One day the figures were all gone, the rumour was that my boss thought I'd gone too far, but her never said anything, then a long time later, I found them all packed up in a box in the back room.

Like I said, I've got so many stories from that place that I could write a book.  Maybe I should.

Also, Ash is right, for some of them,  I could tell by the look in their eyes.  *shudder*

[misterqueue]

I'm actually giggling to myself right now, remembering all the naughty ways I posed our many action figures.  Let's just say Mr. T was a pitcher, and Batman was a catcher, and Snow White was involved in a very not-for-Disney way.  One day the figures were all gone, the rumour was that my boss thought I'd gone too far, but her never said anything, then a long time later, I found them all packed up in a box in the back room.

Like I said, I've got so many stories from that place that I could write a book.  Maybe I should.

Also, Ash is right, for some of them,  I could tell by the look in their eyes.  *shudder*

I used to work with this guy who looked like Evil Spock.  That's not the important part.  He was in his mid-40's and was kind of an asshole.  He would go on and on these tirades about how "the media and culture are making men out to be too girly nowadays", and "When was the last time you saw big hairy guys on screen all macho like"  (Which I always asked him "So.. you want to see big hairy guys on screen huh?  I think your bachelor status is becoming clear.")

He had this weird mixture of ridiculous opinionation (Heh.. blossom) and childlike arrested development.

The latter manifested itself in the form of the Speed Racer car.  It sat atop a shelf in his cube with Speed in the drivers seat, while Spritle and ChimChim were in the trunk.  Every night, after he left, I would sneak over and rearrange the figurines.  My personal favorite was the time I had all three on the hood of the car into what was a modified Lotus Position 3-way.  Something about making a monkey the catcher is really satisfying to the sick fuck eye.

The real reason I did this though is because of the anger it caused in Evil Spock.  "Who has been touching my car!" he would yell as though it was his actual car.  "Keep your hands off my stuff all of you!"

This, of course, only made me want to do it more.  I stepped up, Operation: Annoy the uptight fuck, but eventually he was fired for being a dick, so I didn't exactly get to drive him slowly insane.  C'est la vie.

[littlefallsmets]

The people I work for own a comic shop and... so, on rare occasion, I run paperwork there or help out with a big event there and... yeeeeeeeeah. The way the guys treat the few girls who work there, man, it is just... documentaries must be made on this subject.

Especially at the little hole-in-the-wall shops, where it's still all about... a rack of new DC, a rack of new Marvel and 200 dusty longboxes, nothing else. Just flat-out no-frills corner-pusher shops. A girl or a woman walks in there and... those are the best.

Lately, especially in Los Angeles where I live these days, you see some of the larger comic book shops... trying hard to get female-friendly or at-least female-not-completely off-putting... because the larger shops are staying afloat by putting a lot more of their focus on DVD sales and shirt sales and toy sales and stuff like that. Especially, such as, goth girls, selling those cute-but-gothy toys and Nightmare Before Christmas stuff?

The extents to which those places "get it" and "don't get it" are amazing.

Oh... and? Anytime I buy comics and I'm offered bags and boards?

I'm a HUGE fan of saying "Oh, I don't collect 'em. I just read 'em"... and then strutting out of the place like I'm John Wayne.

[Ben-San]

Instead of going into an analysis of the dysfunction and blatant-yet-unconscious misogyny of an industry in which the term "Women In Refrigerators Syndrome" needed to be coined, I'll just evaluate the comics shops I know.

The Million-Year Picnic (Boston): This place was pretty good. Incredibly tiny and cramped, but with a fine selection and friendly staff. The staff and customer base was also more mixed-gender than other comics shops I've known. My sister worked here a while and considered it positively.

Showcase Comics (Philadelphia): This place is a little closer to stereotype, I guess; the staff often is arguing about X-Men minutiae behind the counters, but it's always good-natured and their layout is positively inclined towards new readers (things that someone who isn't a hardcore superhero fan might actually enjoy reading are near the front of the store).

The Marvelous (Philadelphia): This place opened around the same time I moved to Philadelphia, which gave me a bit of a positive inclination towards it, but it has more and more become a used-records store with a couple shelves of comics, rather than the more or less even split it started with. I guess it's a pretty good used-records store.

Newbury Comics (all over the Boston area): These guys used to have comics but last I saw they were basically Hot Topic.

Okay that's it.

[Hobot]

I am not a reader of comics, so I have not had much of a reason to go inside the store, but this discussion has made me curious about the comics shop in Northampton, the town in which Smith College, the largest all-female school in the country (that is chock-full of awesomely geeky ladies), is located.  Since Northampton basically is Smith, I wonder if the stereotypes mentioned above apply to this particular store.  It would make for an interesting sociological study, to be sure.







EDIT: I know I promised not to remark anymore on posts of numerical significance, but this is POST NUMBER 666!  Deal with it.

[theinevitable]

oh my god, I think I know a lot of guys who would kill to go to the comics shop Hobot is describing. for sure.

congrats on # 666.

*puts on "The Number of the Beast" just for hobot*