Tunnel Vision

Back in July, I wrote about how during a trip to Paris, I paid a visit to comics shop Arkham, an outing which still warms my heart a little.  It got me to visit a part of the city unlisted in any of the travel books, and it taught me that even on the other side of the ocean, you can find kindred spirits.  Essentially, that brief “off-road” trip broadened and shrank my world at the same time.

Ever since, I’ve had this idea that anywhere I go, if possible, I’ll visit at least one local comics shop, just to see how people peddle and peruse their pulp in different parts of the planet.  Of course, that meant I had to travel, something I just didn’t have much time or money to do.

Then about a month ago, I signed up to attend a public interest conference in Washington, D.C.  (For those of you wondering, I’m a current law student, first year, getting by okay, thanks!)  The conference lasted two days, and I couldn’t afford to stay any longer than that, so the prospects of getting some tourist time in seemed bleak.  But there was a window: on the last day of the conference, I had the afternoon onward to myself, meaning I could go anywhere and do anything I darn well pleased.

Considering I just made my comic shop resolution a few months ago, I was determined not to screw up the first opportunity I got to make good on it.  A bit of online research turned up a highly reputable place, and I put it on my “Non-Work Things to Do in D.C.” list.  There was a wrinkle, however; the shop was way out of the way of all the other stuff I wanted to hit up (the Supreme Court, Lincoln Memorial, We the Pizza, etc.).

The D.C. Metro system came to the rescue.  I love public transit.  Even though I live in a shamefully car-centric region (my best friend once drove from his house to mine—even though he lived in the cul-de-sac directly behind mine), I don’t own a car and I bus everywhere.  It’s where I get most of my writing ideas and about half my naptime.  It’s also why I’m not affected by reality TV; once you’ve seen a gentleman carry on a twenty-minute argument with himself, the appeal of watching Snooki get punched in the face is mostly lost on you.

Busing around is all well and good, but taking the D.C. Metro was something wonderful.  Even though I only had half an hour to get from the White House, hit up the comic shop, and then swing back to Dupont Circle to meet some friends, the Red Line saw me through the whole way with a minute to spare, and no hassle with parking or Asian ladies cutting me off on the highway.

If you’re going to have a mall, you might as well have the subway deliver you right to its door, which is the case at Union Station.  After you step up your car, you pass from the echoing concrete vaults of the rail corridors through glass and wooden doors into the station itself, where you enter the food court.  Scurry up the escalator and you find yourself in what feels like your typical mall, with all the attendant swanky shops, only the avenues between storefronts are narrower, reminding you the place was built in a less crowded world.

My destination was tucked in a cozy corner of the shopping center.  Above the transom were large, Roman letters spelling the store’s name: Fantom Comics.  By now, the shop has probably already moved into its new location on the second floor, but at that time, it was, if anything, an even smaller place than Arkham.  You could only move through the place by a single path going around the cashier’s counter set in the middle of the store.  The owners had made good use of their space, though; the walls were covered top to bottom with shelves, and at the very top they even squeezed in a display of T-shirts.

As I browsed, I realized this wasn’t the kind of place where you could really settle yourself comfortably and have a good read.  I was one of only a few customers that evening, but I imagined on a Wednesday, you’d have to make a quick round of the store, snatching up what you wanted, then make way for the people behind you.  That was the nature of a shop serving a center of transportation full of people on the go.