Mom Sleeps on Sidewalk for Wii :O

[Momma Bear]

All for a Wii, Mitch and Mom sleep on the sidewalk in subfreezing temps


I always used to laugh when I heard of people lining up outside stores on Black Friday and found those who slept outside of Best Buy in the quest for a video game console to be crazed morons.


Considering that, I couldn’t quite believe that I found myself outside a Best Buy on a recent Saturday night, prepared to spend 13 hours sleeping on concrete and conversing with some rather interesting characters.


Yes, I was a younger member of the crowd hoping to be one of the lucky 68 customers to get the great privilege of paying $250 for a glorified plastic box, known to the overzealous soccer moms assembled there as the “Nintendo Wii.”


The seemingly futile pursuit of this game system began about one month earlier when my brother declared that the only thing he wanted for Christmas was a Wii. Every store and Web site I checked had plenty of Playstations, PS2 and PS3, Xboxes both original and 360, and a baffling assortment of Game Boys. Still, however, no Wiis.


Yes, the one overpriced piece of plastic that I wanted was nowhere to be found, as countless rude salesmen pointed out. Still, I pressed on and became desperate enough to choose freezing with few prospects of sleep outside of a Best Buy store.


All this, however, leads to my suburban camping experience. While my peers either partied or slept, I spent my Saturday night camping with my mom, decorated with my own takeoff of a Unabomber outfit, complete with an odd array of hoodies and coats.


The night began about 8 p.m. where, during halftime of the Big XII Championship Game, I made my usual phone rounds expecting no better results. However, upon calling Best Buy, I learned that they would have several (“At least 18,” the salesman said) Wiis available when they opened the next morning at 10. My feeling of elation quickly turned to disgusted panic when I learned that “there were already four people in line.”


I then yelled downstairs for my mother, who decided that we had better leave right away. After packing enough tents, sleeping bags and blankets to summit Everest, we departed for 119th Street at 9:04 p.m.
About 9:25, my mom and I arrived at the Best Buy, our base camp of sorts for the next 13 hours, and talked with the four people desperate enough to line up even before us. When my mother set up her chair on the sidewalk, I slipped back in to my car to listen the end of the Mizzou game. If I was going to loiter outside a store I didn’t even like on a Saturday night, I was at least going to wait until they closed. I wasn’t taking any chances with pictures of me huddled on the sidewalk popping up on Facebook.


After dozing midway through Mizzou’s whopping, I awoke at 10:25 p.m. to see that only one more person had arrived. At that point, I climbed out of the cozy confines of my truck to go relieve my mom of her spot in line.


Being allergic to smoke, it was a rude awakening when every single other person in line pulled out their Camels and produced enough smoke to signal rescue planes. Judging from that clientele, Nintendo’s design team would be wise to incorporate a cigarette holder in to their next controller.


I quickly became ill from the smoke while boredom also began to set in. As exciting as it may sound, staring at an Old Chicago neon and covering one’s nose from smoke is not exactly a grand old time.


Luckily, my mother, who is also allergic to smoke, quickly returned from her shift in the car. Not being one to argue with my parents, I graciously accepted her offer to return to my truck seat for an hour or so to warm up.


After more than two hours of surprisingly good sleep in a reclined passenger seat, I climbed out of my car about 1 a.m., where I saw my poor mother shivering in her lawn chair, choking on cigarette smoke. When I asked her how she slept, she rudely pointed out that I had stayed in the car a bit past my allotted shift and suggested I take a turn in the chair.


After relinquishing my beloved passenger’s seat, I quickly gained some empathy for my mother and a new respect for tents. Being an Eagle Scout who has spent 14 days straight hiking through the mountains in New Mexico, I didn’t anticipate much of a challenge with this suburban quasi-camping trip. Boy was I wrong. I had camped in subzero temperatures several times and yet this 30-degree weather about did me in.


Even so, I was able to grab a couple hours of sleep in my reclining lawn chair before waking to an overwhelming desire to go the bathroom, a bit of a predicament when in line with bloodthirsty soccer moms. I had a plan, however, and quickly slipped off to knock on the window of my truck. My mom, who had just fallen asleep 15 minutes previous, was startled by my knocking and hit the panic button on the car keys.
After succeeding in waking up the more than 20 other Wii-waiters who had assembled at that point, my mom returned to her post in line to a chorus of angry yawns.


My trip to the bathroom was an experience in and of itself. I would strongly recommend never going to Wal Mart at 3 a.m., it’s a bit of an awkward experience. When I went to the register to purchase a bottle of pop and a package of candy, I was lectured by the cashier as to why she asks if people want a shopping bag when they have a small purchase. Being half asleep, I shrugged off this unique but pleasant character and headed back to my car. Not having my contacts lenses in, it was a small miracle that I returned to Best Buy with my truck intact.
Upon arriving again at Best Buy, I made an executive decision to take another nap in the car while my mom continued to freeze in line. The end of this horrendous experience was finally coming in to sight by the time I awoke at 5 a.m. I then went and grabbed my mom a small fast food breakfast before returning to wait with her on the sidewalk.


The last few hours on the curb went fairly quickly, as, being fourth in line, we were virtually assured of receiving a Wii for my brother. The frenzy of those who had slept in their own beds Saturday night, however, could be felt from the front of the line. A customer in front of me jokingly offered his Wii to a desperate father for $800. The poor guy actually called his wife and asked if he could buy it.


Most people in line remained fairly civil and good-natured until a woman emerged from her car just 30 minutes before the doors were set to open. This woman, who had been sitting in her car all night, proceeded to tell a man about 20 people back from the front that he was the last person here when she arrived and should be in line there.


Her reasoning was classic, “I’m a nurse and I’m not going to stand out here in the cold.” As if we all thought sitting out in the cold was good for our health. Geez.


Not surprisingly, those of us who had been freezing for the past half-a-day had a bit of an objection to those who spent the morning reading a book with a heater blowing on them. Luckily, another woman in line who also happened to work at Best Buy fetched a manager who politely told the woman that she would not be getting a Wii. This woman, however, did not take too kindly to rejection and continued to stand in line, screaming and crying at the poor manager.


Finally, the doors were opened at 9:52 a.m. Nearly 13 hours of chilly dedication was about to pay off. After parading us to the back of the store, we saw a mountain of 68, not 18, Wiis stacked end to end.
Despite not being able to feel my toes and fingers, we were able to complete the mission we had started two weeks earlier, receiving the fifth game system of the morning.


Even though my feet still may not be thawed out, my suburban camping trip was well worth the trouble. I gained respect for those who eat their Thanksgiving dinner in the Circuit City parking lot waiting for a Black Friday deal as well as great admiration for the man who invented the blanket.


Even though it worked out okay, I’d still say my brother owes me a few favors.

Only thing I ever waited out in the freezing cold for was Howard Sterns Movie Premier (to get tickets) It was awesome
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