A Stack Of Random Back Issues
I don't know if this still happens or if it's a phenomenon confined to an era when you couldn't just walk into any store in the world and buy something with a picture of Captain America on it, but there's an entire generation out there of people my age who had that awkward moment when a well-meaning relative or school chum just handed us a stack of random-ass quarter-bin comics, gave a cheery "Merry Christmas!" and went about their holiday. It's part of this weird phenomenon where we nerds geeks dorks enthusiasts tend to identify ourselves as comics readers, and the people around us who aren't into them just think that "comics" are one thing and one is as good as any other.
This, as you may already know, is not the case, and it has led to some awkward forced smiles and a longbox at the back of the closet that you probably forgot about until it was time to clean, and then started wondering if there was ever a time when you were really into that one Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series where they rode around in a time-traveling cow head. Sometimes I wonder if fans of other types of media have to deal with this same thing. Like people with really good record collections getting a stack of CDs from Rite-Aid, or cinephiles thanking smiling relatives for their copies of Chuck Norris's A Force of One. And then I remember that grandparents exist, and I know it does.
The weird thing is that back issues actually can make a pretty good gift. If you know that someone's missing a particular issue from a run they're looking for, or if there's a great story that you want to share with a friend that has some personal relevance, that's great. But with all due respect to my friend who got me in Secret Santa back in the 10th grade, it's not that I don't appreciate the effort, but there's not a whole lot I can do with a copy of Toxic Avengers #3, two parts of a four-part Star Wars miniseries and a couple issues of Richie Rich.