As part of a business trip to Canada, Janet and I decided to spend last weekend in Montreal to see how it has changed since we were last there in early 2001.
One of the things I wanted to do, was to stop by a comic book store that I had gone to a few times back in 2000/2001. Yes, I admit that I still read the occasional comic book, and it had been well over a year since I browsed the racks of a real comic book shop. Since we were in the neighborhood on our way to Schwartz’s for a smoked meat sandwich, we decided to pop in.
The good news is that Millenium hasn’t changed at all. The selection was still a good mix of local, mainstream and indie comics, and we even found a book of comic strips from one of my favorite series, The City. All in all, a worthwhile stop.
But it was when I went to check out that things got strange. As I was being rung up, the owner looked at me and said “It’s been a while”. I’ve been in the store maybe 4 times, the last time three years ago, yet he immediately recognized me, and remembered that I used to drive in from the East Coast (he asked where I was from way back when I first went there).
It isn’t the first time. 3 years after leaving San Francisco, our local sandwich shop not only remembered me when I went into the shop, but remembered my order. Same with the Thai restaurant we hadn’t visited for the same amount of time.
What is it about me that sticks in the minds of shopkeepers?
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