This city is not lacking for quality comic-book stores. Midtown Manhattan alone boasts two landmark stores that rank among the best on the East Coast: Jim Hanley’s Universe and Midtown Comics. These expansive stores boast a wide selection of comics, collectibles, apparel, etc., etc. Either store qualifies as a Mecca for comics fans.

But sometimes, you don’t need to go to Mecca; sometimes, you’d rather just go to church. St. Mark’s Comics is church. When I walk into one of the mega-stores, I feel that to do the place justice, I can’t just browse and pick up an issue or two. I sense a need, however misplaced, to buy into a comics “lifestyle,” whatever that might be. The slogan of Jim Hanley’s Universe is “Where Art and Literature Meet”; St. Mark’s doesn’t have a slogan, but if it did, it would probably be something along the lines of “Comics for Sale.”

Located on St. Mark’s Place (naturally) between 2nd and 3rd Ave., this place just sells comics. Sure, they have a few other things, some scattered collectibles and trading cards by the register, but what I mean is that St. Mark’s doesn’t aspire to do anything more than sell you a bit of paper-and-ink bliss for a couple bucks. There’s no tiresome preaching to the choir that comics are a valid art form (I agree, but I also think comic artists doth protest a bit much for their own good) and no pressure to inject superhero merchandise into every cranny of your life.

Better still, St. Mark’s Comics mirrors my mental picture of “comic-book store.” The floorboards are worn and creaky; the back issues have been thumbed through countless times; shy, silent nerds peer over fragile racks in search of the latest releases. It’s somewhat precious for a guy in his twenties to wax nostalgic about comics stores like the ones they had when he was a kid, but that’s the feeling I get here.

The only major difference between St. Mark’s and the comics stores of yore is the replacement of a surly store proprietor with a friendly, genuine staff. This is a change I can deal with. When they say, “Can I help you find something?” they mean “Can I help you find something?” rather than “Can you please hurry up and say ‘no’ so I can get back to working on my Aquaman fan fiction?”

The shelves are ecumenically stocked. Work from “indie” luminaries like Tony Millionaire and Peter Bagge—”Fantagraphics-y stuff,” as one staffer put it—is as plentiful as superhero stuff, like a not-homoerotic-at-all Superboy & Robin crossover I found in the rear. Even Archie and Uncle $crooge were out in full force. That said, the back-issue selection was spotty, especially in the Fantagraphics-y section, as there’s only so much old material a cramped store like this can afford to keep on hand.

There are plenty of other, bigger, probably even better places in the city for wanna-be Supermen. For the mild-mannered Clark Kents of the world, St. Mark’s Comics is a refreshingly laid-back alternative.