You could see the room as soon as you walked into the store, so if it was one of those days when you weren’t buying a video game, the room would taunt you the whole time you were there.

If you were buying one though, oh man. You’d take that little slip up to the counter and hand it over to the employee, who (at the time) seemed like the most powerful person in the universe. They would retire into the deep recesses of that room for what felt like forever, before they finally emerged with the game you had chosen. It was magic.

I imagine that if things were still like this today, I’d be furious about having to take that extra step, and I’d be complaining about it for sure. But for some reason that process impressed the heck out of me when I was little. I guess after working in a video store a room full of video games doesn’t seem all that spectacular. I wish it did.

It was probably all the anticipation that made it so amazing. Service Merchandise made even the lamest purchases seem completely awesome because everything you bought came down a conveyor belt to get to you.

As someone makes almost all of his decisions in life based on convenience, I’m definitely glad that things are easier now. Some stuff is better off being polished by selective memory and staying in the past.

And isn’t that truly great? We can make even awful things into good memories. There’s no such thing as bad nostalgia.