But the Barrister struck back, so to speak. He and Dollar Bill had cooked up this plan to introduce a new line of products in the store to boost revenue even further. For the unfamiliar, Airsoft guns are 1:1 replica automatic pellet guns that tend to be extremely expensive; they’re kind of like paintball for guys who want a realistic looking AK-47 to shoot their friends with rather than those bizarre paintball “markers”. I can’t say that I was exactly thrilled to be hawking copies of TICKET TO RIDE to families with a wall of machine guns behind me and I thought it was a terrible idea. I also didn’t see the point of bringing in products that were $300-$400—not only did I think that the audience was wrong, but it also created a higher risk of theft. But they won out, and I was suddenly running a store that looked like the back room of that army surplus store in COMMANDO. Sure, the guns are awesome and they’re restricted to sale to people 18 and over. But they just don’t belong in a hobby game store.

There were actually very few problems created by their presence, although some parents certainly objected and a law enforcement officer did stop in to make sure we weren’t selling AR-15s without a license. They were really more of a novelty than anything else, and I have to admit that on at least one occasion we had a pretty spectacular shootout in the store. But things started to get a little dodgy when I sold a gas blowback Sig-Sauer 220 (with a slide that literally blows back like on a real pistol) to this guy and right in front of the store he threw the box away and stuck the gun in his waistband. We started to attract an entirely different clientele who wanted to see and touch every gun on the wall without any intent of buying them and when they did buy them there wasn’t anything approaching that good feeling you get when you send a kid home with his first copy of AXIS AND ALLIES. They weren’t interested in games at all. I finally put the hammer down and told the Barrister and Dollar Bill that they had to go.

Airsoft was a mistake, but fortunately it turned out to be a not very costly one. With all that space freed up, I made that wall a “new board games” display that quickly became one of the most successful and effective merchandising ideas that I had. It was kind of frustrating sometimes to keep new things on the wall when the new titles were turning over so quickly. A look at the numbers revealed that even with the 30% discount, board games were outselling every other product line we carried. We were competing head on with the internet discounters who had made “MSRP” a forbidden acronym in the minds of board game consumers, and it was working. Unfortunately, the profit margin on these items was also our smallest. I could sell a $50 WARHAMMER item and make around $20, figuring for a slightly higher wholesale price and a smaller discount (10%). I could sell a $50 board game and make $7. The idea was to make up the difference in volume, and that did work to some extent but that fact that board gamers will turn their noses up at anything less than a 30% discount on board games does not bode well for the health of the hobby retail business. And when you’re paying salaries, rent, utilities, and maintenance costs such a sharp reduction in profit can be absolutely devastating.

But we were doing OK despite all of that. In fact, we were doing pretty great although it was still not enough for the Barrister, who would call me and say, “It doesn’t look like the store is really doing that well.” right in the middle of our most noticeable period of growth in terms of patronage and sales. We were thriving mostly because we catered to such a wide variety of gamers and had built up a strong and ferociously loyal customer base and my staff and I were actively involved in making the community happen- which created a lot of sales and a lot of customers who chose us over the online retailers. I can’t take complete credit for the shift at AGF, but I do think that I managed to bring a lot of fire and passion to what was an otherwise lifeless and unremarkable retail venture. I don’t feel that it would be too arrogant to say that once AGF was in my hands that it went through a significant change.

The Kid almost seemed to be a living embodiment of this change…remember when he came in, bedraggled and suspicious, seemingly afraid of everyone that came up asking if he wanted to play a game of VERSUS? By the summer, he was more a part of the AGF family than he was his own kin. He was playing games with everyone, socializing with all, and befriending many. It was clear that he had severe emotional problems stemming from a bad childhood, abuse, and adopting parents who never let him really be himself.

But at AGF, he was a celebrity—charming, surprisingly witty, and always ready to help the store however he could. It was like all he needed was a place to be himself with people who couldn’t care less that he was gay or that his father was a heroin addict that was killed in a drug bust and he didn’t know who his mother was…and it didn’t even matter to anyone that he liked to memorize video game strategy guides for games he had never played nor would likely ever get to play. I took The Kid under my wing; I nurtured him like a younger brother and even gave him a fulltime job at the store- the first he had ever had. I was shocked when I found out that he was 24 years old.

The spring of 2005 at AGF was definitely a season of change. Gamers found a new place to game and make new friends. The Kid started realizing who he was. I had managed to transform the business I helped create into something that I felt was indestructible and savagely dedicated to the hobby. The summer would be one of those glorious, seemingly endless stretches that when you’re twelve years old you think will never end. AGF had transformed from a hole-in-the-wall game shop in a practically forgotten strip shopping center into the Atlanta premiere gaming destination…and the world that summer was glorious.

Questions or comments for Michael? Send them along to gameshark.feedback@yahoo.com .