After they left, my friend said to me “Those girls give me hope, but I do worry about the boys they’re going to scare once they get to college.”

A few weeks ago, there were an episode of the CBS sitcom The Big Bang Theory where the plot involved one of the main characters, Leonard, meeting a young woman named Alice in the comic book store (you can see her in the screenshot above).

Now, there are probably some things to complain about here — I personally found the whole meet-cute over an issue of John Byrne’s Next Men a little too insidery, but it wasn’t a big deal. And yes, to a large extent, they played up the male characters’ awkwardness at seeing a hot girl in their comic book store.

Still, even with her scant screen time (although I’ve read Alice may be back), I found Alice refreshing. I may be projecting a bit too much here, but I didn’t feel like Alice thought she was a novelty. She wasn’t going into the comic book store so nerdy guys could fawn over here. She was just going there to buy comics. (Later in the episode, we find out Alice makes her own comics, which is also a cool thing to see on a popular sitcom.)

Comic book stores can still be uncomfortable places for women sometimes and women creators are still under-represented at Marvel and DC. These are problems. But gross as that Starfire stuff was in Red Hood and the Outlaws, to me, that’s quickly going to be irrelevant.

The teenage girls in the store yesterday? They absolutely are the future of comics. As are all the young women filling up sequential arts classes to the point where they’re outnumbering the men. In that way, I think a sitcom showing a young woman choosing to go into a comic book store to buy comics for herself is a pretty big deal.

At the Nick Bertozzi and Jason Little signing yesterday at Big Planet Comics in Bethesda, that’s what I thought of — that sense of community. The actual purpose of being there — buying Bertozzi’s Lewis & Clark and getting it signed — only took a few minutes. (Due to not having much money, I was only able to buy that. I do want Little’s Motel Art Improvement Service but since my mom expressed interest in reading Lewis & Clark, that one won out. Little and I did exchange buttons, though.)

And while I couldn’t fault the people who got their book signed and left, I thought it was a great excuse to spend a couple of hours in a comic book store. I saw friends, met a few people and finally met Jim Dougan in person. And in the time I wasn’t talking, I enjoyed looking at comics (that I can’t afford right now). I hadn’t been in a comic book store in a while due to the aforementioned “not having much money” bit so I had fun picking up and looking at quite a number of books I had yet to see in person.

To me, that’s what events like this should be about: Giving people a reason to hang out with each other.

Whether someone is reading them or making them, comics can make people feel a little isolated. Reading, drawing and writing usually take place when people are on their own. It’s also not uncommon to feel like you’re the only person you know who likes comics or feel like you can’t discuss them in the way you want with friends or coworkers (I don’t particularly have this problem with my friends, but I know my social circle is probably a bit different from most people’s).

I like comic book stores (the good ones, anyway). I like the feeling of interaction, of feeling like I’m a part of something. Yeah, online shopping is great and social media is a great way for us to keep up with each other, but it’s not the same thing.

Which is a really long way of saying: Yesterday afternoon was the fun of the best kind. And now I have Lewis & Clark to read and enjoy. All in all, that I came away with a comic after having fun feels like a good bonus.

(I forgot I had my camera with me — it’d been a long day — but Mike Rhode of ComicsDC took some photos, one of which I borrowed for this post.)

It reminds me a lot of a toy store with its bright interior and colorful art. Yes, they do sell quite a number of toys (usually of the vinyl/collector type, but they do have Uglydolls and such) and games (role and board), but comics are the star here.

I’d say that Vault of Midnight runs more mainstream than a lot of other comic book stores I frequent — most of the indie stuff occupies two small shelves downstairs — but they do have an impressive selection of comics and art books. The open and airy layout leads to a comfortable environment for browsing. I saw a few things I didn’t see elsewhere.

While we were there, I’d say that there were more women/girls than men/boys in the store for a bit (the store’s proximity to University of Michigan probably helps on that account) and I thought that was pretty great. The staff was friendly and attentive.

Ann Arbor may not be on your list of places to go, but if you’re nearby, check out Vault of Midnight. It’s a store I’d like to have closer.

As much as I love the stylishness of stores like San Francisco’s Isotope and Brooklyn’s Bergen Street Comics, I love when a classic comic book store is done right. Comic Swap is just that.

While it’s in a basement, the store bright, clean and well-organized. The graphic novel shelves are the first thing you see, and they’re arranged by category and then alphabetical by title (a set-up I prefer, because I’m often more likely to remember a title than the creator). To the right is the floppies, interspersed with minicomics (some by local creators) and to the left is manga, back issues and other comic-related peripheries (role-playing games, etc.).

The store is fairly small and even though it’s not overly packed with goods, it’s obvious whoever runs this store has put a lot of thought into it. The graphic novel selection had a lot of great titles, ranging from the classics to the smaller gems. I also loved the extensive children’s section (I think every comic store needs one). I think it’s great they sell minicomics alongside the big titles from D.C. and Marvel.

The staff was friendly and my brief chat with them was great. They seem like they’re having fun.

I encouraged my friend to go there — he’s a sometimes comics reader but felt a little intimidated by the Batman and Spider-Man signs in the window. I told him he has nothing to worry about. It’s a lovely, comfortable store. I know State College is a college town, but any city would be lucky to have a place like Comic Swap.

But that’s not the point of this post at all. My last stop in New York was Brooklyn’s Bergen Street Comics. It’s a gorgeous store and if it was nearby, they would be taking all my money. The layout is excellent — children’s comics within easy reach of little hands, graphic novels organized by genre rather than author or title, and a table in the middle with selections of note. The single issues line the walls. It feels like shopping in a boutique bookstore rather than a comic book store.

I am not, overall, a hater of traditional comic book stores — you know, the sort that have lots of T-shirts and posters and action figures. Some of them do this kind of thing very well and they can be fun. But others don’t and they can make some of us a little uncomfortable sometimes.. Those sorts of stores aren’t welcoming to the people who were never superhero fans but will read graphic novels like Persepolis.

Bergen Street Comics is a store for those people. It’s far from being some snobby, intellectuals-only place — owners Amy and Tom are very friendly and welcoming and obviously love comics of all sorts. It’s a store for everyone and that’s an awesome thing to me. They know what they’re doing.

I wish them all the success they deserve and I hope to get back there one day.

(There were many things I would’ve bought, but I picked up The Color of Earth from First Second. Really, First Second needs subscription plans.)

If you don’t want to watch it, here’s the summary (please note that I do not watch Heroes, but I know enough about it and I did watch bits of this episode and this scene in particular):

Claire, the blond cheerleader-type, decides for various reasons to go get a job at a comic book store. Never mind she doesn’t read comics. The store owner/manager/whatever asks if she can work Wednesdays. When she doesn’t get it, he tells her that’s when new comics come out. He then asks her if she wants to fly or have invisibility. Claire is further confused and decides to leave. The manager-type says she can have the job because all the guys are looking at her and she’ll probably sell comics.

This scene was not nearly as bad as everyone made it out to be. The manager person seemed pretty patient in dealing with someone who didn’t know anything about the job she was applying for and while he was obviously nerdy, he just struck me as being a typical slightly awkward comic book guy. Maybe the line about “all the guys are looking at you” was questionable, but at the same time, maybe the manager thought it would be nice to diversify his staff a bit.

But instead everyone has decided that Heroes is making fun of their core audience and girls totally read comics and comic book stores are never ever like that. Ever.

Let me make one thing clear: I know there are a lot of amazingly cool comic book stores out there. I’ve been to a bunch of them. Isotope in San Francisco, certainly. Big Planet around here, yeah (I especially like the Georgetown one). Forbidden Planet in NYC is, of course, phenomenal. Vault of Midnight in Ann Arbor is fun. Everyone seems to adore Rocketship in Brooklyn. And a little stuffed bull really enjoyed his trip to Bergen Street Comics.

But I don’t think a handful of stores in major metropolitan areas along the coasts (and one in a liberal university town) is necessarily representative of all comic book stores.

Because for every one of these great comic book stores, there are probably dozens of comic book stores like Stories in Richmond.

One of the Stories is near my mom’s house in suburbs of Richmond. It is exactly what you think of when you think of a comic book store — tables covered with long boxes of back issues, old collectible toys hanging from the walls, dimly lit and packed full of stuff and the “adult” section a little too visible. Now, Stories is fine for what it is — it’s a comic book store and it’s not trying to be anything else. And while I never felt particularly uncomfortable going in there, it really wasn’t a place I ever felt too excited about going to, and given the choice, I’d go somewhere else.

And yes, it’s still there. It’s still like that today. Stories, to me, is much more typical of comic book stores than any of the others I mentioned above. Those are the exceptions. This is still, unfortunately, the rule.

I do feel like I should point out that the employees at the comic book store I went to as a young teenager were always really nice to me. The worst thing any of them ever said to me was to tease me about my hat and ask if I was trying to be “Blossom” (it was the ’90s, OK?). But I also remember going into comic book stores and feeling invisible and ignored. And this still happens.

Once, a year or two ago, I was in the Big Planet store in Vienna. When I first went in, there was a dad and his young son looking at Bone or some such, and then a young hipster couple looking at graphic novels. They departed and young men came in and started talking about typical comic book stuff. No one, to my knowledge, was really saying anything terrible or sexist, but I suddenly had the sense that I was an intruder in a boys’ club and I didn’t belong there. I left soon after.

And this was a store I like, a store that basically does everything right. It’s well-organized, bright and colorful and comfortable (it should be said that the Vienna store is probably the most suburban of the Big Planet stories). It was the underlying attitude of the patrons that changed that store for me.

Girls and women reading comics isn’t the novelty it used to be and I think that’s awesome. I love that. When I was teenager it did feel pretty lonely and I’m glad it doesn’t seem as lonely now. But there are still some comic book stores — and obviously, fans — that are slow to catch up with the changing times. If you thought that scene in Heroes didn’t represent reality, well, I’m glad that you see comic book stores and fans that way. But to me, even though I know there’s plenty of cool stores and cool fans, it still felt pretty accurate.

Screenshot taken from Heroes episode “Shades of Gray,” captured from Hulu.com

I’ve been in some good comic book stores — even when I was a young teenager, I remember going into one of our local stores with my brother and the staff was always nice to me and let me feel like I belonged there. I like the casual coolness of the area’s Big Planet stores and I certainly adore the boutique vibe of Isotope Comics in San Francisco. And yes, I’ve been in some bad comic book stores — ones where I’ve been ignored because I was neither a boy (of any age) nor a mother so I didn’t register. I’ve been in your stereotypically dusty, dimly lit stores.

But this isn’t so much about comic book stores. This is about what’s in them.

I don’t tend to think of teenage girls as of one mind — I was watching The X-Files and not Dawson’s Creek as a teenage girl. Yes, maybe I would’ve been inclined to pick up Wolverine: First Class because I liked both Kitty Pryde and Wolverine. But that was me. That’s the kind of teenage girl I was. I would not say I was typical.

Quite possibly, it’s an excellent title for teenage girls (although Broderick said his daughters didn’t care for it) but as he pointed out:

Even “First Class,” supposedly written for girls and targeted to that audience, featured an aggressively-posed Wolverine – claws out with a grimace on his face – while Kitty Pryde, supposedly the narrator and main character, was secondary.

He then compares it to the cover of the book Twilight (oh, our favorite easy example of Twilight) as well as the movie cover. Both are romantic and a little mysterious. Put side by side with the cover of Wolverine: First Class, I think the choice for most teenage girls is pretty clear.

There are wonderful comics for girls out there. But if they’re not presented in an appealing way, how are teenage girls going to pick them up? (Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane seems like it did a little bit better in terms of appealing to girls. I don’t know how many girls read it, though). And this is even if you get them into the comic book store in the first place (but that’s something of another matter).

Don’t get me wrong – I love plenty of comic book stores. I love the Big Planet stores, I love Forbidden Planet in New York. I like your basic hole-in-the-wall stores, too (to a point). There are a good collection of great comic book stores in this country.

But I’m talking about sheer coolness here. And in terms of coolness, it’s nearly impossible to beat Isotope.

I read somewhere that proprietor James Sime (who tends to look like a Batman villain – and I mean that as a compliment) looked at women’s shoe stores when planning his comic book store. Certainly, it does not have any of the racks of T-shirts and tables for 10-year-olds to play Pokemon. It has an open layout with comfortable, stylish couches and bright colors and lighting. You’ll find the usual recent issues and plenty of collections and graphic novels, but there are also plenty of featured titles on display, which is always helpful. There is also an awesome mini-comics lounge upstairs which has a great selection of things that deserve attention.

Sime is infinitely enthusiastic and polite. He went out of his way for us while we were there, taking time to show us his “Comic Rockstars Toilet Seat Museum,” which is much more awesome than it sounds. He has all his store’s guests draw on toilet seats. (You can view the gallery here.) He also kindly provided us with a list of his favorite places in San Francisco.

He obviously loves comics passionately, but there is absolutely no snobbery from him. I’m sure there are comics he likes more than others, but he didn’t have a bad word to say about anyone or anything. In fandom culture that is too often caught up in complaining, I find this refreshing and wonderful.

If you’re ever in San Francisco, you need to visit here. We need comic book stores like this. I suppose it’s both good and bad that I’m on the opposite side of the country from Isotope right now. I would be shopping there all the time if I could.