funnyman

Life has taken a tragic turn. I got a call from Becky saying that Super Video is going out of business. This store has a HUGE place in all of our hearts as well as the hearts of many others. The life stories that have been spilled in that place are enough to write a folk history of the cherry hill area. The tears cried there could fill an ocean. Anyone who worked there can attest to it being the best job any of them had ever had, regardless of pay, hours, etc. The things that have occurred within these hideous white walls will stay with us forever. One golden moment was the night where we were blasting Ella and Louis, then out of nowhere, we put on Hey-ya, by Outkast. The entire store was dancing, including some of the customers, most notably Renee, the pot-smoking lottery-head. It is people like her that made the job so much fun. And of course there is Andy. "824, 794, straight ten times, wheel em once. Alex, you're a good man. Ian, lookin' better than ever!" You can't easily forget the infamous Earl Sixberry. Loony as hell, but funny nonetheless. "Uh, hi, is this the president? Yeah, we've got a situation down here." John Bergman, who lost the gallon challenge and $20. Tony Quinonez, Willis "The Drill Seargent" Finch, Shah, Asian Elvis, Mr. Campbell, Alex Almonte, Cheesy Suit Guy, and GUS!!!!! The list goes on and on. What will happen to all these people? Their lives will go on, but they will not be the same. Each one of them owned a piece of Super Video, a sliver of the collective greatness. What will Thanksgiving be without the annual feast of leftovers? Turkey and stuffing never tasted so good as it did on the counter with paper plates. Never before have I been itching to get out of my grandmother's house on any holiday, especially turkey-day. But the idea of sharing the night with your closest friends in the world was too good to pass up. The bond of the employees is one that will never be broken. Even the people that no longer work there are still best friends. This store had a magical power that brought people together and never let them break apart. This store is not merely a point on a map. It was a way of life for all of us, and it is going to be tough to get used to not having it there anymore. Even though we aren't closed yet, it feels disheartening to not have a key, to not have the power to come and go as you wish. One of the best things about the store was its use as a social hub. Dates, parties, road trips, you name it. They all intersected the crossroads shopping center at one point or another. If one of us had a bad day, the door would always be open, and there would be someone there with a willing pair of ears, a hug, you name it. I would continue, but this memoir would never end. There is simply too much about these hallowed grounds to write on paper. There is nothing in the world that could ever replace the comeraderie and sense of community felt by all who were lucky enough to be part of the Super Vid experience, and it will be sorely missed.