Missing 'The Dungeon'

This one is a shout-out to all my San Antonio peeps (Mom, that means 'a special message to friends in San Antonio').

I was looking at my refrigerator the other day, it's covered in magnets, and I noticed a very special magnet from years back. It's special enough that the phone number listed doesn't even have an area code, which means it was made before the explosion of cell phones that has made our culture a vast wasteland just like what used to be the Japanese and Finnish cultures. The magnet was a special present from a special store, meant to keep the place forefront in its customers hearts and minds. The store is long gone, but the magnet's still working.
   The place was 'The Dungeon,' quite possibly the best comic book store ever in the history of mankind. Please note that 'best' does not mean 'cleanest.' Oh, far from it. The Dungeon was poorly-lit, dusty, and in a constant state of disarray. And on humid days it smelled funny, and I don't mean ha-ha funny. When mothers would come in looking for something for their children they would pause just inside the door and take stock of the place like a wildebeest looking for crocodiles. It was the archetype of a comic book store, a place where you were welcome if you knew what you were doing and how to behave yourself, and if you didn't belong you knew it the instant you crossed the threshold.
   Pete owned The Dungeon. As far as I know Pete had no last name. He was thin, with a straggly wizard's beard and long fingernails. He looked scary, but he was the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. And he had connections with the distributors. If there was an item that no one else in the city had you could bet Pete had two of them, or he could get two with a single phone call.
   And the back stock - ah, pure heaven. This is what made The Dungeon the best. New comics on the wall, recent back issues in boxes, expensive back issues behind the counter, and then several hundred square feet of... whatever. Pete had a huge warehouse full of boxes and boxes and boxes of comic books that he'd acquired over the years, and every so often some of those boxes made it to the store. You could find ANYTHING in those boxes, old, new, expensive, cheap... a visit to those boxes was sure to turn up something good that you'd never expect, at a reasonable price.
   And the games - The Dungeon had game treasures hidden on shelves, in boxes, and under layers of dust. Like always, if you couldn't find it anywhere else, you could find it at The Dungeon, you'd just have to spend time looking for it.
   Pete got in tax trouble and The Dungeon closed years ago. Turns out it's a bad idea to pay your employees in cash and forget to take out payroll taxes, let that be a lesson to you small business owners. But the magnet is still on my refrigerator, and the memories are still in my head. So long Dungeon, disheveled, dusty, dark, scary Dungeon, these new comic book stores don't know what how to do it right at all.