Alley Cat: Mark Thomas's lucky 7

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Mark Thomas pushes aside a rack of floor-length motorcycle jackets to reveal a door. “I just like weird shit.” A dingy staircase slathered in a garish shade of tennis ball winds upward on the other side. By the top, the ceiling is barely high enough to stand upright. Like Willy Wonka’s biker uncle, Thomas unlocks one coded door after another leading to his “cave,” a dusty, windowless office above his oldest store.

Thomas owns The Alley, the collection of punk/kitch/whatever stores on the corner of Belmont Ave. and Clark St. in Chicago that have attracted generations of suburban teens on their first pilgrimages to the big city.

After minding hell’s gift shop for three decades, Chicago’s godfather of alternative culture has enough keepsakes to fill four offices and stories to fill each one of his many shops. High above the driving music and scent of leather in the main Alley store, he reminisces about the toys in his attic.