We've all seen it. The decrepit remains of a bright blue and yellow ticket sign shaking in the wind, a shell of what it once represented. It ignites a sort of nostalgic longing tinged with sadness as you recall the easier days of your youth. Like so many children of the 90's and early 2000's, I too miss video stores.

The rush of the automatic doors propelling you into a massive, florescent lit wonderland of moderately priced rental entertainment. The lines of candy and popcorn enticing you at the checkout line. The forbidden backroom. Yes, video stores provided an experience that simply cannot be beaten.

At 20 years old, my early childhood was at the tail end of the video store heyday, so most of my memories are actually of buying VHS tapes from smaller stores closing down. But somewhere, in the deepest corners of my mind, I can muster up oddly vivid memories of weekend trips to video stores. My family mostly hit the small stores around the neighborhood (I mean Blockbuster every weekend? We weren't millionaires), but sometimes we hit the (economic) motherload: 'Hollywood Video'.

This place was HUGE. Well, at least it seemed like it was when I was knee-high. The DVD racks lined up for miles, the candy counter was loaded, and I could pick any two movie's I wanted. It was truly heaven. But, as we all know, this heaven would soon end.

As Netflix began its reign as entertainment king, video stores across America fell to its power. Suddenly, video stores were dead.

Tiger Video down the street shut down first. We came to a bittersweet end as I did snatch up a deal on Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper and a VHS release of the iconic Broadway show Cats. Then Hollywood Video met its end, sitting empty for years until it finally came under new ownership as an ABC store. And last of all, Blockbuster. It held on for as long as it could before finally, it let go (and was turned into a furniture store).

Some of the purest, happiest moments of Millennial childhoods came from video stores. I know many of mine did. I can still smell the plastic wrap on all the packaging. I can feel myself placing an orange Nickelodeon VHS back into the case after ignoring the "Please Rewind" sticker. I can taste the Baby Bottle Pop powder I shot straight down my throat, lollipop be damned.

Curse Netflix for stealing my childhood right out from under me! I wish there were some way to recreate the gorgeous experience and routine of visiting video stores. Redbox tried to fill the video store shaped hole in my heart, but it just wasn't the same. When you have to get your family-friendly weekend fare from the side of a dimly lit gas station next to a suspiciously smelling puddle, the experience kinda loses its charm.

But still, I hope for the day I can visit a video store again. To finally relive the glory days of my youth, bouncing down carefully organized aisles of endless feature films ripe for renting!

Or I'll just watch Hulu. Whichever one comes first.