The quest
We arrived at about noon on Saturday. It was an unusual warm day for late September, with a thick, white haze that hung over the city like a thick white haze that tends to hang over cities on unusually warm days.
It wasn't much better inside. There was already a line, about thirty thick, most of them young, many of them not. The young ones were excitable, fidgety, intense with anticipation. The older ones were not. Those who were there for the same purpose as the children were silent, steely, as though they wished others did not see them there. Those accompanying the children talked quietly with the others.
The wait was long. Those at the front were taking too long. We later discovered that they were there to take more than they were to be allotted, and, for a time, most of them succeeded. Others came unprepared. The line shifted only after about ten minutes at the start, and moved more quickly in the time that followed. We chatted, to keep our spirits high, to ward off the unusual heat that we did not expect inside the building, to help us ignore the increasing soreness in our feet and the gradual aches of our backs.
Soon, there were less than ten before us. We became more restless. The children could not sit still, jumping out of line repeatedly to gawk and gaze at what they could not have, what they could not afford. We were slowly becoming more and more irritated with the children. Those same children would irritate us further by taking more than they deserved, as had those before us, and at the expense of our time and patience.
We were next in line. The word soon came that the line behind us had passed the two hour mark. People were getting restless. Those in charge were warned not to give out more than they should, as an incident could take place. I fear they did not take that threat seriously.
It was our turn. We chose what we would give away in return for our prize. The transfer took place. I was excited, but I dared not show it, for such glee at my age would be frowned upon. She was also excited; I could tell, but she, too, restrained herself.
And it was over. We stepped aside and admired our acquisitions. Satisifed, and tired, we left, and returned to our vehicle, back in the hazy still of the Memphis afternoon.
We are each the proud owner of Mew, the legendary 151st Pokémon.
Oh, and Dragon Quest Heroes: Rocket Slime and Capcom Classics Mini Mix are both awesome. I'll blog about those next time.
It wasn't much better inside. There was already a line, about thirty thick, most of them young, many of them not. The young ones were excitable, fidgety, intense with anticipation. The older ones were not. Those who were there for the same purpose as the children were silent, steely, as though they wished others did not see them there. Those accompanying the children talked quietly with the others.
The wait was long. Those at the front were taking too long. We later discovered that they were there to take more than they were to be allotted, and, for a time, most of them succeeded. Others came unprepared. The line shifted only after about ten minutes at the start, and moved more quickly in the time that followed. We chatted, to keep our spirits high, to ward off the unusual heat that we did not expect inside the building, to help us ignore the increasing soreness in our feet and the gradual aches of our backs.
Soon, there were less than ten before us. We became more restless. The children could not sit still, jumping out of line repeatedly to gawk and gaze at what they could not have, what they could not afford. We were slowly becoming more and more irritated with the children. Those same children would irritate us further by taking more than they deserved, as had those before us, and at the expense of our time and patience.
We were next in line. The word soon came that the line behind us had passed the two hour mark. People were getting restless. Those in charge were warned not to give out more than they should, as an incident could take place. I fear they did not take that threat seriously.
It was our turn. We chose what we would give away in return for our prize. The transfer took place. I was excited, but I dared not show it, for such glee at my age would be frowned upon. She was also excited; I could tell, but she, too, restrained herself.
And it was over. We stepped aside and admired our acquisitions. Satisifed, and tired, we left, and returned to our vehicle, back in the hazy still of the Memphis afternoon.
We are each the proud owner of Mew, the legendary 151st Pokémon.
Oh, and Dragon Quest Heroes: Rocket Slime and Capcom Classics Mini Mix are both awesome. I'll blog about those next time.
posted by TM520 | 5:51 AM
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