About a month ago I happened to be awake past 11:00 when everyone else in my house was asleep, except for my 20-year-old son. It seems Video Man had ordered the hottest new shoot ‘em up videogame of the year, and this night at 12:01 he could go into town and pick it up. Sounds pretty simple, doesn’t it?
When my four boys were younger we had all sorts of crazy times together. This night I was up for crazy. I would go with him. We sneaked out of the sleeping house and were on our merry way. As we neared the plaza I seriously thought I would die right there on the spot. The line of people already waiting in line had to be over 400! The line stretched past the end of all the stores. I knew I’d be stuck alone in my car with nothing to do for hours and hours. No book to read, no notebook, no nothing.
The crowd swallowed Video Man; a hadn’t a clue where he was. It was 11:45. I could see the store entrance clearly. I focused my vision there. What are the odds of having this fiasco run smoothly? thought me of little faith. We are talking some serious anxiety here, followed by utter disbelief and finally resignation. Video man was gone. No way was he coming back to take Mommy home. I realized exactly how little ones feel when trapped in malls with their shopping moms for hours on end. No way to escape. In for the duration.
The stroke of midnight arrived; one more minute and the doors opened. 30 seconds later a young man runs out, clutching the video game above his head as a prize fighter flaunts the championship trophy to the extreme roar of the crowd. Clapping, cheering, screaming. This boy runs, and I mean RUNS, to his truck which was parked near mine. He was so happy!
Every guy who came out ran to their vehicles hooting and hollering, burning rubber, tearing out of the parking lot. Five high school friends, all clad in their letterman jackets, emerged as if their lives depended on reaching their cars first. They ran as fast as they could.
I was swept up in the sheer happiness of these goofy people. And the best part was that at 12:04, only three minutes after the doors were opened, 30 people went in and out. What else could I do but count? 12:09 – 50. 12:13 – 82. 12:16 – 101. 12:21 – 135. How could the salespeople move them out so quickly?
As I counted the 140th person I thought I glimpsed my son, but it couldn’t be. He had to be much further back. Eureka! Crazy Person #149 was my Video Man. He had cut in line when he saw some friends. Yay! Who cared about rules at that point? Not me! I was going home before 4 in the morning.
Here’s a shout out to GameStop for a job very well done. They even served free pizza. Believe it or not, I exited the parking lot with a twinge of sadness, leaving the joy. It’s good to know that I can still make crazy memories with my crazy men!
Maureen is copy editor and columnist for Mamazina. Visit her at www.CatholicMom.com where she writes a weekly column, and also at www.MaureenLocher.com.



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