There was another sighting.
I was waiting for a bus on Northern Boulevard, across the street from Memorial Hospital. A guy comes up to the bus kiosk and sits next to me. I told him the #182 bus would arrive in about ten minutes.
We get into a conversation about the value of mass transit. He said something I’ve expressed to my wife, that he would HATE being isolated outside of access to bus lines. I noted my support for public transportation.
It was a pleasant simpicato conversation. We both got off at Washington and Lark. He introduced himself, and I told him my first name. Then he said, “You look just like…” I get that a lot. It’s often a former teacher at Albany High School.
He said, “You look just like a guy who worked at a comic book store.” Ha! I said, “You mean the comic book store that was over there,” pointing in the general direction of 21 Central Avenue.
“I was around 12 when I went there!” He went to the store when Matt worked there, so in the 1983-1988 period. While I understand why people thought FantaCo was great, I’m surprised anyone remembers me. I only worked the front when the new comics arrived, the store was busy, or covering lunch periods. Mostly, I was in the back room doing the mail order, balancing the checkbook, or writing.
I conveyed this story to someone at choir rehearsal, where I was heading. “That can’t happen too often,” someone said. “You’d be surprised,” I replied.
About a year earlier, I was at the Readers’ Theater, sponsored by Wizard’s Wardrobe, taking place in the new Capital Repertory building. A guy helping set up said, “You used to work at FantaCo!” This was not a question but a statement.
I suppose it helped that my hairline hasn’t appreciably changed. The picture of the duck represents my look in 1983.
It’s so weird. Pleasant but weird.