patndoris TechnoGeek

Wii - the Christmas craze of 2007. The little suckers can prove to be darn near impossible to get ahold of. Someone near and dear to my heart needed one to make Christmas morning perfect for his daughter, but the local stores were sold out. As Nintendo controls the supply and generates the demand, things weren't looking good for dear old St. Nick. I casually offered to ask around, but never expected to find a useful line on one.

...

Now, being the super undercover agent I am, I contacted my possible informants and unearthed a hot tip Target right by my house had them under lock and key in the back stock room! My source (who I'm afraid I cannot reveal for his own safety, but I can tell you is a co-worker) told me they had 30 of them and they'd be available Saturday morning. So, I ventured out about 5:30am to scope out the situation. I arrived to a near empty parking lot. About 6am another vehicle pulls in, engine idling quietly like mine, but no movement from the suspect SUV. Finally just before 8am, when the doors open, life stirs and a woman hops out and heads for the door. I casually interrogate her only to find this was a whim, she'd been looking for one all over and just decided to try Target.

8am...the manager unlocks the doors and we stealthily head for electronics. To our dismay - we're told they can confirm the Wii's are in the building...but as there is a sale starting the next day they are unable to sell them. After a bit of torture (ok, ok, gentle prodding) we are able to elicit from the hostages (I mean store employees) there are "at least 10" of them in the back room, but their training is ingrained and they fail to divulge more. We're told lines form around 4am on Sundays and are dismissed with a cheery "see you tomorrow."

I slink home to deliver the bad news that I'd not obtained the Wii, but there was a decent possibility if I used my covert training I might be able to get one the next morning. I watch the weather carefully as a huge ice and snow storm is predicted. The Doppler radar becomes my worst enemy. I eye the colors on the radar moving closer and pray the plan can be pulled off. I cannot leave 13 year old male offspring home alone, sleeping blissfully, if there is even a remote chance I will have difficulty returning to the safe house (...I mean home.) But how can I tell the intended recipient I may not be able to go? As the day turns into evening, things begin to look up. It seems we're in for more rain than anything...and plans begin coming together. I'm unable to reach the intended recipient for various reasons, so I forge ahead with my plans.

Saturday evening I lay out my disguise. Thermal leggings, a pair of stretch pants, and sweat pants to go over those. I select 2 pairs of heavy socks and my winter boots, setting them carefully on the nightstand. I contemplate the terrifying weather and the likely 5 hour wait in the harsh elements....32 degrees Fahrenheit (0 Celsius)... and decide on a tank top, under a thermal undershirt, under a t-shirt, under a sweatshirt, under a wool pullover (...and the green grass grew all around...oops sorry lack of sleep was getting to me by now.) I pull out a fleece lined winter coat, lay out 2 hats, 2 pairs of gloves and a blanket next to my lawn chair I plan on occupying for several hours. Then I attempt to grab a couple hours of sleep.

2am. I awaken, and after no word from recipient, send an encrypted message over (highly un-) secure WLM lines that I'm off soon...mission underway. I layer on the clothes, kiss the male offspring goodbye, and head out at 2:45am. A thin layer of ice greets me on my vehicle, but is easily removed and I head out on the not so long 1-1/2 mile journey to the store. When I arrive at 3am, to my shock and horror there are other cars in the parking lot. I give a cheery smile and a wave to the lady from the day before as we both climb out of our vehicles.

Just then - 2 figures materialize and alight from other SUVs. (Sidebar: As the night turns into morning I ruminate on how all the secret agents guard their true identities carefully...we simply refer to one another by the order in which we arrived.) #1 and #2 had arrived at 1am. #3 had pulled in at 2:30am and I (#4) had just arrived at 3am. Until this time, no one was standing outside, but upon my arrival, we all staked a claim under the awning and placed ourselves directly in front of the "In" doors. #1 and #3 also had chairs, #2 elected to stand facing the forthcoming onslaught of people. We all occupied and shared 1 square of concrete about 7'long by 4'deep. This was where we would stand firm, not allowing anyone to get near those doors, or ahead of us. A slightly tenuous bond formed, but we were all well aware of our mission, and kept focused - conversation was light and minimal, we glanced every few minutes at our watches.

At 4:15am my cell phone rings. It's the recipient checking for a SOL (sign of life)from me. Actually, it's the recipient apologizing that he fell asleep (sigh...sleep...not something I'd see for many hours) and checking in on the mission. He's astounded to hear I am #4, and there is a real possibility of success. After a brief update on the situation I'm informed he's off to bed (sigh...something I won't be doing for many more hours...) and I'm to report in via WLM with full details when I arrive back to home base sometime after 8am.

As the minutes creep slowly by more agents arrived in search of the same mysterious Wii. Reports ranged from 10 to 30 of them based on inside source information that was never meant to be revealed. Some were convinced the magic number was 21...but no matter we were still golden. We reveled in the fact we were the chosen, the ones assured of getting that 8 pound box, and wondered how many would be turned away? Minutes seemed like days, conversation ebbed and waned. Toes shrouded in boots became numb as we stood on the ice like sidewalk. Rain poured down and we all gave a small prayer of thanks to the Target god for the awning. Those who lined up at 9pm the previous night at Best Buy were far less fortunate having no shelter from the elements, as we found out by tapping into the cellular lines and speaking with the wife of #2 who had been positioned at the other secret location in case #2 were to have failed in his mission.

4am #5 and #6 pull up in a dark SUV, dropped off at the entrance to the store while their cohort stays in the warm vehicle. Shortly thereafter, more agents arrive and we know it's only going to get worse. Up to #12 or so, we all had a good time joking about how not being able to feel our toes was one of the first signs of frostbite. There was a sense of camaraderie, if one person must slink to the car to warm up, none of the others would cause a fuss. But as more and more droves began to arrive, we feared for our spots, unwilling to move from that first square of concrete in front of those doors. (To make matters worse, some agents brought hot beverages with them...I'd been smart enough to evaluate the possible consequences of such a stomach warming action and knew it was a very bad idea indeed...but for some of the original 12, I dare say it was a painfully long morning.)We eyed the obviously warm vestibule just out of our reach, and the snack bar with restrooms just off to the side. But alas, although we had come this far - these were unattainable and we had to redirect our focus to the task at hand.

As the sun came up we knew we neared the homestretch, there were throngs of people, jostling and cutting in front of each other. The noise was near deafening, but a respectful distance (perhaps 3')remained between the latecomers and those of us who had braved the harsh elements to be the elite few who were 100% sure we would walk out with a Wii. At 7:30am as promised, red shirted Target management appeared, followed by a small army of security. We were briefed on how this operation was going to go down, and assigned our official numbers. It seems there were 72 of the Wii's in the store and they were determined to see no rush, no running, no trampled customers. The look of fear on the faces of the employees inside the store amazed me...did we look like crazed lunatics out there? Well, I suppose perhaps we must have if we arrived from 1am on - all for a video game!.

8am the doors are unlocked and we are told to move back. We are escorted single file into the store, escorted by a band of security guards. Like captives, we are lined up down the main aisle, again single file, known only by our numbers. With only 2 registers in electronics, processing the 72 detainees was going to be a lengthy process. I was thankful I was indeed #4 as I really wanted to go home at this point with the small treasure in hand. After each detainee purchased their unit and stepped away from the register, the commandant called the next number and we were allowed to approach one by one. A quick swipe of the credit card, and a signature (they decided to skip the biometric eye scan) and I was out the door 10 minutes after the store opened.

Upon my arrival back at the safe house (darn - I mean home) I snapped a picture of the little beauty with my cell phone to prove I'd actually obtained one. A few hours later I made contact and gave the coded message that indeed I had a Wii. The only task left was to package it in a non-descript box, ship it Federal Express out of the country, and have it arrive the next day, well in time for Christmas.

I'm happy to say this operation was a total success. After a long night and morning of tracking the package, it arrived in said other country around noon local time and has been secreted away, unopened in its box that gives away no clues to the contents. Santa now has a Wii to leave for a beautiful 10-year old female offspring who still believes in the magic of Christmas and Santa. It was quite an experience for me. One I must admit I'm not anxious to repeat, but a very gratifying one none the less. I know come Christmas morning, I will have helped in a small way to put a smile on said beautiful 10-year old's face.

(Cross posted from my YH 360 on this same date.)