This store has the potential to be a great little indie art supplies shop, were it not for the revolting individual who runs it. The girls that work the register and floor are sweet and helpful and I feel so sorry that they must endure the stench of such a flabby bag of puss otherwise known as Mark Glickman. Yes, he's that repulsive. He's like a hunched, pot-bellied goblin who waddles with an air of self-importance with his little arms flailing spasmodically as if cast out of jello. It is quite clear upon seeing him that he has probably never been with a woman. The only way that you can ever hope to achieve a pleasant shopping experience at Easel Art would be if Mr. Glickman is simply no where to be found.
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