Graphic novel nirvana

I stopped collecting comics years ago, but this week I have been visiting some comic stores in pursuit of graphic novels. I've always liked the form, and in some ways it's better, since you can read an entire story arc without having to wait a month for the next issue (or longer with some of the independent publishers I preferred).

On the way home from the parade I noticed a shop on Yonge. The street presence is just a dingy doorway leading to a scary flight of stairs. It's named The Hairy Tarantula and the cramped space upstairs has the best selection of graphic novels I've seen here so far. The staff were also friendly and helpful, which can be rare in the usual nerd/elitist atmosphere of these places, especially considering I can't pass as a 30-year-old fanboy anymore. Several cats were sleeping in various places around the shop - another good sign. The guy who ran the place was bald (I think) under a ball cap and wore a bra under a button-up shirt that was tied up below his chest, exposing plenty of belly. He was helpful and chatty and mentioned another place I might have to check out as this place didn't have a couple of books I wanted. Someone might have to take away my credit cards, although I think the membership has already paid for itself.