Harry Potter
My clever wife had reserved a copy of the new Harry Potter months ago. So when we heard the Barnes and Noble where we reserved it would be open at midnight to sell it, we think: "Oh what fun! Let's go pick up our copy!"
So at 11:30 we gather ourselves up and drive over. While we were doing this, John, my oldest calls and says he and his buddy are going to go over and try and buy a copy. I say, "Great. Look for us; we'll be there."
The first clue that our plan was, shall we say, ill-conceived, comes as I make my way down University Drive towards the B & N entrance. University is normally not that busy at midnight, and there was fair amount of traffic--most of it turning into the University Park Shopping Center. I turn in and see the parking lot is really full. We are talking 3 days before Christmas full.
Outside the store are stray people milling around. I can through the store windows to see the lines at the cash registers stretch back as far as the eye can see. By the door is a table giving away posters and acting as crowd control.
"We have a reserved copy," my wife says.
"Do you have a yellow ribbon?" said the person manning the table. "I can't let you in without a yellow ribbon, and we've given away all of them. We might be able to get you in at Last Call."
This all bespeaks a system more complex than I or any one else in my party want to deal with at midnight. "How long until we could get in?" I ask.
"Probably before 1 o'clock," says the table crew.
We do a quick vote and decide to bail. After all, we have a reserved copy; we can just pick it up tomorrow.
As we are driving off, we pass John and his bud pulling into the lot. I advise him of the situation but he decides he'll stand around and try to get in. I tell him, "Get 2 copies if they'll let you have them."
He calls us at home about 40 minutes later and says he was unsuccessful. We get ready for bed. Ten minute later he shows up with--the liar!--two copys of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. He is the hero of the night. Ah! the intrepidness of youth.
He and Ed have started reading. He's about 2/3rds of the way through already (started reading the night he brought it home). Ed didn't start reading until last night; I had to tell him to turn off his light and go to bed around 2:30 this morning. Dot has read a chapter or two whilst one or the other slept.
Me? I'm 50 pages into Plot Against America, by Phillip Roth. And patiently awaiting my turn.
So at 11:30 we gather ourselves up and drive over. While we were doing this, John, my oldest calls and says he and his buddy are going to go over and try and buy a copy. I say, "Great. Look for us; we'll be there."
The first clue that our plan was, shall we say, ill-conceived, comes as I make my way down University Drive towards the B & N entrance. University is normally not that busy at midnight, and there was fair amount of traffic--most of it turning into the University Park Shopping Center. I turn in and see the parking lot is really full. We are talking 3 days before Christmas full.
Outside the store are stray people milling around. I can through the store windows to see the lines at the cash registers stretch back as far as the eye can see. By the door is a table giving away posters and acting as crowd control.
"We have a reserved copy," my wife says.
"Do you have a yellow ribbon?" said the person manning the table. "I can't let you in without a yellow ribbon, and we've given away all of them. We might be able to get you in at Last Call."
This all bespeaks a system more complex than I or any one else in my party want to deal with at midnight. "How long until we could get in?" I ask.
"Probably before 1 o'clock," says the table crew.
We do a quick vote and decide to bail. After all, we have a reserved copy; we can just pick it up tomorrow.
As we are driving off, we pass John and his bud pulling into the lot. I advise him of the situation but he decides he'll stand around and try to get in. I tell him, "Get 2 copies if they'll let you have them."
He calls us at home about 40 minutes later and says he was unsuccessful. We get ready for bed. Ten minute later he shows up with--the liar!--two copys of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. He is the hero of the night. Ah! the intrepidness of youth.
He and Ed have started reading. He's about 2/3rds of the way through already (started reading the night he brought it home). Ed didn't start reading until last night; I had to tell him to turn off his light and go to bed around 2:30 this morning. Dot has read a chapter or two whilst one or the other slept.
Me? I'm 50 pages into Plot Against America, by Phillip Roth. And patiently awaiting my turn.
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