Despite scientific proof that our planet slows in its rotations every year, life on Earth seems to be moving faster. Everything is open 24 hours a day, every store has a drive-through and everyone is in a tremendous hurry. Express has become the American way, and who cares if something's done correctly as long as it's done quickly? Spicer's obviously didn't get the memo about speeding things up. The shop, stuffed to the gills with every manner of bric-a-brac, tchotchke and sundry both useful (stationery and office supplies) and sublime (a child-size crossbow that shoots suction-cup darts), demands slow, aimless meandering down aisles choked with wonders. When faced with the juxtaposition of portable barbecue sites stacked within sight of a case of Steiff stuffed animals, one abandons all pretense of hurry, giving in to the human need to roam. Perhaps you'll leave with a Cross pen and a small stack of postcards; perhaps you'll find something in the novelty/magic items aisle. Whatever you leave with (and you will leave with something), only two things are certain: The item you initially went to Spicer's to purchase will not be the only thing in your bag, and the amount of time you spent within Spicer's walls will far exceed what you originally planned.