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The other day, I stopped into a local Amazon returns store on my lunch break. You probably know the type: chaotically overflowing other people’s returned orders, with half-open boxes scattered about in huge bins. It’s like some kind of post-apocalyptic ball pit game show, where you might find something worthwhile if you wade through enough discarded shelving kits, no-name iPhone cases, and shoe insoles. This particular store is only a few months old, and I’d visited a few times without finding much…
