"Variant Fever." Or, "Strange Austerity."

Wife lost her job a few days ago; or, as they put it, "the position has been eliminated." We have returned to the old routine of intense anxiety in an uncertain future. "Time to tighten the belt." From Flush Times of Alabama to Hard Times Come Agin in a matter of days.

I was naturally leery of spending any money unduly or frivolously. Still, we driving in Burbank, going as it happens to the recycling centre down there (to avoid the international homelessness conference that is our local recycling centre) and the car, following an absurdly tortuous route, emerged suddenly as if by magic on Olive, next to Tally Rand. We were so near to my regular comic shop that I said, in the voice of a wheedling five year old (that is, my customary voice), "Can we go to the komeeks shop please?"

Wife said I could spend whatever we got from the recycling centre on comic books. We had a couple of sacks full of a) Calpico bottles and b) Original New York Seltzer vanilla cream soda bottles.

We got two dollars exactly for them. 

Chastened, in the comics shop I went straight to the dollar bins at the front of the shop to see what was new. A kind of autistic single-mindedness to my actions. There were some nice old (i.e. 80s) Green Lanterns, one with art by Alex Toth, one drawn by Gil Kane, the rest Joe Staton era stuff. I like Joe Staton –– he's underrated. Picked em up. 

While I was going through the bins, the excellent shopman Eric called across the counter, "Oh, hey, Fabian, you know that Adam Hughes Doctor Strange variant you wanted on Wednesday? Well a copy became available. The customer we saved it for passed on it." 

I came over eagerly, saying, "But how much is it I wonder?'

"I think that was why he passed on it," said Eric. 

Price was $24.99.

I recoiled from the book, albeit with some reluctance.

(How does one recoil with reluctance, sage Kung?)

I made the universal sign of "burnt fingers". 

"Too much for my poor purse I fear" I said with a queasy smile. "My wife just lost her job and we're having to prioritize. Gotta change my whole philosophy." As the shop folk made kind commiserations I went back to the dollar bin. "Austerity."

Anyway I spent about ten dollars there and left. In the car back I recounted what had passed to wife, like it was a tale of great temptation and heroic restraint.  "They had a rare variant of Doctor Strange but I said I couldn't pay for it. I wouldn't do it! Time to rethink things. Austerity measures." 

I sat in silence all the way home, grinding my back teeth to a fine dust.  

When we got in the house, my wife was concerned with something at one end of the apartment and I seized the opportunity. I leapt across the room, grabbed the phone and called the comics shop. Said in a hushed voice, "Eric? You still got that Hughes Doctor Strange variant? Yes? Well set it aside for me  then man could you? Austerity be damned!"