It's hard to "like" or "dislike" Border's. Border's is like the Wal-Mart of the arts world that needs to do nothing but exist to be effective.
To compare Border's to a bookstore would be like comparing the internet to a public library. Border's has everything you think it might and more, which doesn't make it bad, by any means, but shouldn't be confused for good, either.
One section spills over into the next like the way streets in Los Angeles become parkways and freeways without any previous indication. You look up and you're standing at a cafe without realizing that you're no longer where books are supposed to be; you turn up the volume to hear music from the headphones the clerk gave you when all you wanted was to read a magazine.
What's an independent bookstore to do? How is the Yucca branch supposed to draw a crowd when everyone has wifi?
Border's isn't evil or tyrannical or malevolent but it is present and pervasive. Wherever you are, you know that if you can dream it, you can go to Border's and buy it. It is the urban sprawl of commercial space, and it's holding a non-fat latte and smiling at you.