Stuff That Makes A Gay Heart Weep

Altoids Expainging The Strength

 

Scary Ebay Items

Wasting Money On Products Your Pets Hate

 

 

Thuggies

What in hoodie hell????

 

Dangerous Thuggie gang. Don't fuck with them. They'll try to chase down you in their Thuggie gowns.

 

 

ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE DAYS

"Single by choice ... well, not mine, but, someone's"

 

 

Benjamin Kissell

You know your week is off to a stellar start when it has Valentine’s Day AND 2 of your ex-boyfriends’ birthdays in it.

Did I mention that both are in long-term, committed relationships?

I didn’t? Well, now I did.

Bitter: party of me.

What made this gay heart weep tears reminiscent of Lady Gaga losing all those Grammys to Adele [that’s right, “album of the decade”, mm hmm] was just making it through the snark-inducing shit I deal with.

Join me, please.

 

Thank you Brian B for the inspiration from our fb chat.

 

[Now, picture me in a cute 60s PanAm-esque Flight Attendant outfit ...]

 

Good Morning, passengers of Gay Hearts Weep Airlines, this is your flight attendant – Benjamin – speaking. You need to board this flight quickly and quietly. Your flight crew appreciates this.

Now, here are some simple rules which will ensure everyone has a pleasant flight and walks away from this plane alive.

There is no need to talk to anyone. It is O’Dark-Stupid in the morning; that means it is time to sleep. No one gives a shit about ANY of your problems. To all children that are under the age of 5, please pay close attention:

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. It is way past your bedtime so NO ONE should hear a single peep out of you! If you continue to make noise? I will pepper-spray you my damn self. You have been warned.                                                                                                              

[*ahem* It may be noted here that some have theorized I have a problem with children. Those people? Are perceptive]

 

…..

 

Needless to say, I am not a morning person. Nor can it truly be said I’m an afternoon person. Nor much of a Night Owl. Come to think of it, I think I’m set on perma-snarky.

I wonder if it’s a medical condition.

Should I treat it with wine?

.....

 

Let’s examine this past Monday, as an example of why I’ve such an outlook, together: 

I got up at O’Dark-Stupid in the morning to be at work [again, not a morning person – but, thank gawdd for coffee] and wade through a pack of imbeciles.

I mean pleasant people.

No, I mean completely selfish assclaps who seem to spend hours plotting how to make my mornings at work as difficult as possible.

[Some people call them customers.]

Anywhoo, after all of the loveliness of an 8-hour shift with no real break, I hopped in the car to drive my tired ass home [Please note that I refrained from nabbing McDonald’s – my de facto comfort fast food – stoopid diet. Bugger.] only to discover that my front driver’s side tire had a lovely sharp screw.

Embedded in it.

At least something’s getting screwed for Valentine’s.

Yepp, the day before Saint Valentine’s and I am single, dealing with a flattening front tire, fighting that impending-30s spare tire, and fighting the urge to punt anyone in the balls who so much as crosses me.

 

Healthy coping mechanism? Why, you bet’cha!

 

Okay, I totally took the coward’s way out and called Grandpa to ask what I should do (aside from replacing the tire) – he promised we could spend the next morning replacing or repairing the tire. *Whew!* 

Assured of future success with the tire, I threw caution to the wind and let my hair down. Way down. In fact, I asked my lovely roommate Melanie to chop it off.

[One way to lose weight, cut 3-4 lbs of hair.]

Some people deal with things through shopping [guilty], eating unhealthy foods [also guilty], inappropriate behavior [need I say it?], but on a diet and dirt-broke I turned to the old stand-by: snarky and inappropriate commentary and re-invention.

I may have spent the better part of the evening reading fantastically funny blogs, twitter-feeds and watching youtube … with some wine paired beautifully.

....

A change-up as simple as hair cut or color can perk up even my shittiest day – of course, pairing it with an over-priced t-shirt would make it complete, but, who am I kidding? Not gonna happen.

With my short haircut – inspired by What’s-his-name-you-know-the-hot-one-on-CSI – and a bowl of low-cal devil’s food cake mix [tastier than cardboard, but not much] I had a bounce in my step.

The bonus? The fact that many 18-25 yr olds think I look 22/23 with it is totally [low-cal] icing on the [gawdd how much I wish it were real chocolate] cake.

 

Hrmm, perhaps it wasn’t such a shitty week after all.

 

Or maybe that’s just the wine speaking.

Ridiculous Runway: Inflatable Dress

Picture proof that what you wear can make you miserable.

Below is Lanie from the GAY HEART WEEP book:

 

 

Surviving Valentine's Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burgers and Hot Dog Shirts

Ready flamethrower. Aim. FIRE!!!! BBQ!!! Seriously who thinks this shit sells?

 

 

The Doggie Doo Game

Wanna play with some poo?

  

WAITING FOR KEN TO COME OUT OF THE CLOSET

 

"C'mon girls - do you believe in fierce fashion?"

 

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes a Gay Heart Weep metrosexually-acceptable tears of awkwardness? Why, it's walking into the toy aisle and finding Barbie's erstwhile beau, Ken, bent over bukkake-style in front of G.I.Joe's entire platoon. 

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love seeing those tween Bratz doll and Monster High "boyfriends" flaunt their effeminate looks and girly poses (and shoes, never forget the shoes). But, "Fashionista" Ken? Uhm, isn't that term reserved for women, super-fashion-forward gay men [Carson Kressley for example] and gender-confused performers who get on my nerves [I'm looking at you, Gaga]?

Taking a detour through the doll aisle - ostensibly to find presents, but really to find laughs - I discovered visual scare after visual scare. Ken with his hand in the back-pocket of his cut-off Daisy Duke-esque jorts with Hipster-style sleevless tank [GAG], for example. Or the cute Blaine from Glee look complete with skinny-leg jeans, dress short-sleeved shirt and bow-tie. Or, possibly my favorite ... the Toy Story 3 inspired Ken.

 

"Hi, I'm Mallard; Ducky's bi-curious cousin."

Yes, because looking like a less-masculine version of Ducky from Sixteen Candles will TOTES win Barbie's heart back to your cause, Ken. Really? He's one leopard-print slap bracelet away from all of my fashion nightmares in the mid-80s. Or, a few braids and some neon lipstick away from a Boy George costume. Either way; nuh uh. No. Cease and decist. He now has almost as large a wardrobe as Skipper [scary]. 

Please don't think that I don't want a gay-friendly doll for girls and girl-boys to play with; I'm totally for creating toys that any gender can play with and identify with - creating a much more comfortable and accepting generation of kids. I really am. Bu-ut, when it comes down to the basics, Ken = straight guy; Barbie = straight girl; Barbie + Ken = stereotypical heterosexual couple. 

In fact, I'd love to see Barbie develop a new defined friend, a GBFF. Heck, even name him Blaine or Ben or another classically gay name to dispell any confusion. He could go shopping with Barbie, have his own fashion line. They could try on clothes together in the Barbie Deluxe Mall (complete with Hollister, American Eagle, Abercrombie & Fitch and Forever 21 - the food court sold seperately) while playing with their Barbie-brand iphones and discussing which of their trendy boyfriends was DJing at the club that night before leaving to take bodyshots off ab-tastic model-dolls.

But, please crawl back into your classic tux, Ken, and stop making me stare longingly at your Rock Hudson cameo [and yes, I get the irony there] in hopes of seeing the old you. 

 

Manly yes, but he likes it too.

CUSTOMER [MIS]SERVICE

 

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes a gay heart weep tears of price-tag infused pain [with a side of free-gift-with-purchase agony]? Why, working in the Customer Service Industry and the absolute fucktards who don't know the system.

We've all griped, bitched and moaned about bad customer service from the customer's point of view. I mean, who hasn't had that assclap barista who made their coffee with an extra splash of "go fuck yourself"? Or the really rude salesclerk mutter under her breath that that delightfully green blouse you're trying on makes you look like a friggin' jolly fat-ass giant? Or that welcome-desk guy who didn't make you feel welcome so much as you were intruding on his World of Warcraft time?

Yeah, we all have had some bad customer service stories at one time or another, but, lest we forget, there is a tacit agreement here. Good customer service is a 2-way street. When the Server is nice, the Customer is nice, and the Server is nice in return. A volley of kindness. That whole pay-it-forward crap, ya know?

Of course, there are ALWAYS folks who don't believe in this system. People who's sole goal seems to be to work your one remaining shredded nerve until its frayed ends splinter and your patience becomes a thing of the past. These people? These total assclap selfish dicks? Are the Shopping Dead.

I've been "lucky" enough to work in the retail services industry - c'mon, I'm a gay man who's a very 'customer friendly' [their words, not mine] and 'outgoing' [again, their words] - off and on since I was 20 and can testify that this system is real.

For example; in the recent months since Borders closed [read: where in RetailHell am I gonna find another job where I can pretty much dress, talk, act and promote how I want?] I've been back in the 'proper' Customer Service Industry and have I some tales to tell.

For now, we'll gloss over the paranoid schizophrenic off her meds who threw the iron; we'll pass over the creepy old dude who created a doggie kennel in his room and hid it behind his comforter strung-up on the wall; and we'll instead just talk about a plain, run-of-the-mill jerk.

About a month ago, Mister X [shan't call him by his real name, Total Jerk Assface, for legal reasons] showed up to my service counter/desk/whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-call-it and after I politely greeted him [I stay caffeinated to keep up my pseudo-perky demeanor, thank you] rudely cut into the schpeel we are all forced to say.

*Ahem* strike 1.

I arch an eyebrow but politely ask how I may assist him [I'm not gonna lose the Customer Service battle without at least trying] and smile big'n'purty [I may often have a British accent, but, I was raised with Southern manners, thank you].

Of course, my extreme politeness didn't curb his enthusiasm any and the vitriol and acid leaked off his tongue with an alacrity that put me in the shade.

*Ahem* strike 2.

Sure, Mister, I'll happily process your request. Thank you for throwing your credit card at me to pay. And of course it's great that you just called me a fucking idiot for not knowing your name before you told me it and for not being able to read your mind as to what I can do for you in every manner. Why, no, it doesn't bother me when assclaps like yourself act this way.

Oh, wait, yes it does.

Strike 3 - you? Are so outta here.

Pulling my own forked tongue out from behind my teeth I dialed the accent up a notch, dropped the Southern gentility of my politeness - WASP alert - and looked him straight in the eye. And told him.

To go.

Have a nice day.

What? You think I'd tell that jack-off exactly what I thought of him? Remind him of the whole 'I'm nice to you so you're nice to me' unspoken deal that is part of Customer Service?

Okay, I did kinda do that. Bu-ut, that was after he told me to shut my fucking mouth and to not be so sarcastic. [Sidenote: telling a gay man to not be sarcastic is like telling a fuzzy kitten to stop being cute. Not gonna fucking happen. Just fyi.]

Seriously. I'm sorry, but, when I am politely doing my job and go out of my way to ensure that I'm being polite to you and you brazenly breach the etiquette here? Sorry, but all gloves are off.

I tell you this story not to brag - in fact, I'm very NOT proud that I lost my cool like that - but to illustrate the delicate balance the whole dance of Customer Service is based around. It's a give and take. I do my best, when on either side of the counter to make sure I'm giving my best and I hope you are too.

 

Book Smell Fragrance For E-readers

Seriously...fragrance for e-readers? While it looks like a joke, the folks at Smell of Books.com are dead serious and call their new tech-cessory "Aerosol E-Book Enhancer." With Eau to cats and Classic Musty, they may need to rethink their fragrances - How about some chocolate, beer, new car smell, or fresh baked bread? Would you buy a can of fragrance for your e-reader?

 

N.J. Bridal Shop Refused to Sell Wedding Dress to Lesbian Bride

From ABC News:

Popular reality wedding shows such as "Say Yes to the Dress" depict how emotionally trying the purchase of a wedding dress can be, but Alix Genter found that out for herself when she was refused her dream dress from a New Jersey bridal boutique.

Genter, a graduate student at Rutgers University, was refused the sale of wedding dress at Here Comes the Bride, in Somers Point, N.J., after she says its manager found out she was a lesbian and insulted her about her pending "illegal action."

Donna Saber, who owns and manages the small bridal boutique, had initially called Genter to follow up on the availability of a special light-weight version of the dress Genter had coveted from her shop.

Saber told ABCNews.com that when she prepared to call Genter about her order, she noticed that she had crossed out the word "groom" and put in the word "partner" instead.

"When I mentioned it to her, 'Oh, I see you crossed out groom and put in partner,' I got a barrage," Saber said. "I literally got a barrage of 'bigot' and other really cruel words...I might be the kind of person that when you get at me, I might continue the fight, and maybe I shouldn't say this, but I have my beliefs. I did say that I, to the best of my knowledge in the state of New Jersey, that we do operate in New Jersey. If she had remained calm, I would have been able to tell her, that it's illegal, it's an illegal action, that her marriage was illegal in NJ. "

Even so, her store's Yelp profile has received well over 300 reviews, most of them of them negative, in the last 24 hours alone from individuals all over the country, which proves that the topic of gay marriage remains a sensitive issue.

The boutique's Facebook page administrator had removed similar comments from its public wall.

Saber says that she does regret her words towards Genter and said that on Friday afternoon she left Genter a voicemail expressing apology for her behavior.

Genter didn't respond to the apology, telling ABCNews.com, "I can't have this in my life and I've decided not to talk to any more press. I've said what I've needed to."

Kathryn Hamm, president and co-founder of gay-friendly wedding vendor directory GayWeddings.com, said "It's not surprising that this happened, but the good news is that it's happening with less frequency among wedding vendors in the industry. For what it's worth, I can understand how vendors who haven't considered this issue may not be in favor of it [gay marriage] – it feels scary and intimidating."

Hamm added, "Alix Genter's wedding will forever now will be associated with that very difficult and disrespectful experience. My heart goes out to her and her family. It's a day of celebration that they are preparing and planning for, and Alix has the same right to experience that joy as any other bride."

In June 2011, New York joined Washington, D.C., Iowa, Connecticut, Iowa, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont with its legalization of same-sex marriage.

Same-sex unions in New York State are not differentiated from traditional unions statistically, but more than 5,000 couples in New York City have applied for marriage licenses within the last two months, compared with 4,191 over the same time period last year, Mark Botnik of the New York City Mayor's office told ABCNews.com

The jump in marriage license applications and ceremonies has kept the New York City Clerk's office has been busy.

"The atmosphere has been very positive since the law took effect on July 24th, and we have seen a pretty decent increase in volume of people here," said Michael McSweeny, City Clerk of the City of New York.

"Every day I've seen same sex couples coming in for licenses and ceremonies, and the atmosphere is very upbeat – it's been a summer that none of us will ever forget."

via abcnews.go.com

 

Ipad Covers Made From Bernie Madoff Clothes

WTF??? What's next? Ipad covers made from Kardashian Bras and Charlie Sheen boxer shorts?

via www.style.com

        By Matthew Schneier

Don’t judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes, the saying goes. What about until you’ve swaddled your iPad in his sweater?

A new company, Frederick James, will let you do just that, in the castoffs—or forcibly-removeds—of Bernard Madoff, the reviled Ponzi schemer currently serving a 150-year sentence in North Carolina’s Butner Federal Correctional Complex.

Founder John Vaccaro, a Web designer and developer, conceived of the idea for Frederick James when he left one of his own cashmere sweaters lying near to his new iPad; soon after, he began producing a small run of cases in cashmere and fashion fabrics. But the idea took off when he read about the auction of items from the estate of Bernie Madoff. Off he went, and came home with a bounty of clothing, now cut and sewn into custom, one-of-a-kind tech accessories. An initial batch—made from a navy Dior sweater and a Bergdorf Goodman sweater vest—sold out within a day of returning from the factory, solely by word of mouth. A Wall Street lawyer bought five at $500 apiece to give as Christmas gifts.

Wall Streeters, hedge funders, and financial types are the main market for the cases, Vaccaro explains. At the auction, white-collar financial guys snapped up lots for memorabilia’s sake—the same people who, he hopes, will be buying iPad cases made of Banana Republic chinos and Murphy & Nye sail-cloth pants for between $250 and $500. (Certificates of authenticity are available upon request.) “There were people in the hedge fund industry who wanted to showcase them in their offices,” Vaccaro remembered from the auction, where over-the-top items like Madoff’s monogrammed velvet evening slippers went for several times their estimated prices. “It’s a prize thing for people in finance.” Asked about the potential squeamishness of profiting off Madoffiana, the designer shrugged. “Nobody’s really objected,” he says. “People are like, oh, that’s cool—then people are like, oh, that’s kind of weird. At the end of the day, [they] like owning a piece of history.” He noted that proceeds from the auction benefited the victims, and that he hopes to make a donation of his own once his company turns a profit. He declined to say how much he’d paid for the lots of Madoff clothing, though he did disclose it had been more than he’d intended.

“I was buying stuff I didn’t even need,” Vaccaro added about his hours at the sale. “By 10 o’clock at night, there were stragglers there—probably only 20 of us left. This lot of cooking stuff came up, and I thought, why not?” It won’t make a tech accessory, but he’s now the proud owner of a set of Madoff’s pots and pans. “Everything tastes a little richer when you’re cooking in them.”

The Madoff iPad cases are available now at www.frederickjames.com.

CLOSING ITS BORDERS TO ALL

  

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes this gay heart weep tears of profuse anger and bitterness? No, it's not the release of another Rebecca Black song [although, that does produce much of the same reaction] or the impending release of another Twilight flick [the hordes of Twi-hards are readying]. It's the disgusting - but not unexpected - announcement on July 11th that Borders Inc is closing its doors after 40 years.

It may come as no surprise to our readers [sorry for the 3 and a half month-long absence, btw] that I was a Hoarders Slave [to borrow the Retail Hell Underground slang] and worked for Borders for several years.

I was everything from a basic cashier [read: grunt] to the Operations Supervisor at one point. I was once the Training Supervisor and Calendar Kiosks Supervisor. I did Merchandising and Inventory Floor Drops. I did just about everything at one point or another in my almost 4-years there. Despite some insane bosses [leading to blogs entitled The Devil Wears Wal-Mart, for example] and some horrible custys over the years, I was very happy there. My co-workers were a family. One. Big. Borders. Family.

And now? About 3 months after my particular Borders closed its doors forever, hundreds of other Borders Families will be broken and cast to the wind. I weep for them, as my gay heart wept for my own.

Not only does this Liquidation send almost 11,000 people out of jobs, but, it spells doom for casual and die-hard book-buyers alike. The reason? For most folks, the e-book revolution (despite it's tech-savy coolness) isn't practical. Don't get me wrong, I own an e-reader. I love my e-reader. It's great for taking on long trips when lugging around multiple paperback or hardback books would be both costly (travel fees) and just-plain-hefty, but, the pleasure of picking up a book and flipping through its pages cannot be duplicated digitally.

Many folk have blamed Borders collapse on the digital books and e-readers - it is true that they were slow to get in on the digital bandwagon and it didn't help that until 2008 Borders website directed traffic to Amazon.com - but, this assumption is both fallacy and farce.

Legitimate reporters and kvetch-bloggers everywhere [myself included] have raised voice on the subject.

One of the more insightful (and still entertaining to read) articles is by the author of Social Media is Bullshit, comedian Brandon Mendelson. On his Posterous site, White Man Says Outrageous Things For Attention, Brandon posted "How the Associated Press Got Their Story About the Death of Borders and Its Impact Wrong".

I could gnash my teeth and yell my throat raw decrying the loss, but ... I've already done that. I did most of my mourning back in February through April. I've said my private good-byes - now, I'll say a few public ones.

........

 

Bookstores have played a significant part for most of my life. When I was a todder, my Mum worked at the large (for the time) local bookstore, WaldenBooks. After she quit, we still shopped there - and hit the other bookstore in the mall [BDalton and such], the local new/used bookstores and borrowed from the public library for many years - through its consolidation and closure in the mid-2000s.

In the mid 1990s, though, a sparkling new bookstore took root in-town. In the giant new shopping complex [inappropriately named Central Park] all of these new buildings seemed to spring up, fully-formed: Target. Shoppers Food Warehouse. Best Buy. Borders. We still hit our mom-and-pop local bookstores, don't get me wrong, but, the arrival of this huge, megalithic-mythical bookstore called to us. Its siren's song of destruction - for, how can one afford to buy all of the books one wants when such a store provides such easy access to them?

I was 13 years old and really developing my bookworm and geek-like tendencies [oh, c'mon, what boy at 13 wasn't reading all of those Star Wars novels because he had a mini-crush on Luke Skywalker? Oh. I get it. Guess that was my gay-heart speaking early on.] And this humongous building, housing so many choices was intimidating and amazing. Of course, it would take until the end of my late-teens for me to break out of my niche-reads (only reading one specific style/genre or author at a time) and embrace the gargantuon offerings such a large, chain bookstore could offer. And, of course, I was almost 20 before I truly embraced one of the other loves of my life: coffee, so it would be years before I grasped the enormity of a bookstore WITH a cafe within it.

Walking through those aisles - and the layout of a mid-90s Borders is nothing like the 2011 Borders, 'twas all cubby-hole and nooks packed with small couches and stacks of books - I was in heaven. For what could be better than all of those books, movies [vhs for a long time] and cds laid out for me?

I remember looking up at those stacks upon shelves and wishing we could just move in. I loved our bi-weekly trips to the bookstore; and with their Teachers Discount, we would spend hours poring over their selection to see what qualified and what didn't and to see which coupons we could apply. Years passed like this, I went to two high schools and on to college, never losing - only increasing - my love of books and for my local Borders. It was a steady relationship.

In March 2006 I happened - while sitting on the bench in front of humor - to notice a white jacketed book with a teal dress in foil on the cover. Bitter is the New Black, it read, by Jen Lancaster. Hrmm, this? Has potential I thought. Within the month, I had discovered a whole new genre of literature I had not yet embraced - humor. "Chick lit" came next and then humorous fiction - authors like Caprice Crane, Stacey Ballis, Sophie Kinsella, Marc Acito, Josh Kilmer-Purcell, Paul Ruditis and Meg Cabot joined and supplanted the places of honor on my bookshelves. Borders had once again, worked a miracle into my life.

By this time, I had joined the ranks of the "Hoarders Slaves" and was a bookstore drone - quickly standing out, due to my customer service and overall general gay-heart-awesomeness, and I was team lead for "Merchandising" and various other roles of 'honor'. Borders, had once again sung its siren's song and laid claim to much of my paycheck, as well as more hours of my free-time than I shall commit to evidence.

Because of this new flowering of my literary-ness, I decided to do something I had never done - go to an author's reading/signing and get a book I loved autographed by an actual author. I asked my Mum [because, what gay heart doesn't take his mother to an important event?] to join me, and we went to the Borders in Bailey's Crossroads, VA. There we met [and I embarassed myself quite nicely] the fantastic (and my literary hero, aside from Jane Austen) Jen Lancaster

I shan't bore you with a whole recanting of the story; but, suffice it to say, it was one of the happiest times I've had in my life. Jen was - and still is - an amazing storyteller and terrific person to get to know. Her memoirs (and now fiction work) are witty and sharp-tongued, as well as insightful and often thought-provoking. Of course I love her for all that, but, it doesn't hurt things that she, too, loves gay hearts. She is the self-described "Queen of fat chicks and gay guys" [Bright Lights, Big Ass, her 2nd memoir].

I've loved my experiences with you, Borders; the good, the bad, the ugly and the be-glittered. Your presence in my life has allowed this gay heart to not only blossom and grow, but, to better himself and learn new things about himself in the world.

I met the first guy I ever went on a date with while cruising the dirty magazines (at 17); I was turned down by my first should've-been-gay-but-isn't guy who worked for you [he wore corduroy pants and tight t-shirts in the mid 2000s, pre-hipster - he REALLY should've been gay]; I met and made friends with local authors and met world-famous writers all because of Borders; I've created book tours and signed books; I've been cast as the Twi-heartthrob and garnered a myriad of tween-fans. 

I got to meet, for one, the talented and terrific author Freeman Hall - our host and author of the book this site is here for - and strike up a friendship for the last 2 years, now. Without Borders, and my Borders Family, I wouldn't have had that chance.

I've had so many good (and a few not-so-good) experiences with you, Borders, and I wouldn't trade any for the world.

Thank you, Borders, thank you so very much. You made this gay heart happy for 15 years. And it truly makes this gay heart weep to see you go.

 

[I'd like to thank my Borders Family: Glenna, Christine, Rhonda, Ken, Bob, Shelly, Annette, Little, Elizabeth, Crystal, Chris, Kacey, Nora, Kathryn, Jay, Tom, Tommy, Brittany, Kelly, Karissa, Ben, Brandon, Stephanie and the dozens of other good people I worked with at the Stafford Marketplace Borders over the years and to the hundreds I knew over the last 15 at the Central Park Borders. Thank you. This one's for you.]