Awake

The Victorious Journey to Utter Let-Down

The rumor was turning true: a shipment of Wii consoles were to arrive at Fred Meyer that night.

O, would we never had heard that rumor.

Yes, it was Christmas vacation. Family gathered. Presents opened. Table games played and played again. But despite our best efforts to attain contentment, over us loomed, The Wii Rain Check.

We had only to locate a console. Impossible? Indeed. Unattainable? Of course. Should we have waited a month? Duh. But calls were made. Morning trips to local retailers taken. For what?

For NOTHING.

But then. The RUMOR.

7:45 pm. I had stopped by the Beaverton Fred Meyer on my way back from volunteering at the dispute resolution center at City Hall. It was right across the street. I would just pop in and ask.

"Yes." The retail clerk at the electronics department nearly beamed as he explained, "Yes, a shipment may be arriving this evening. Call at 6:30 am tomorrow to confirm whether or not the shipment arrived."

Oh sweet gem of information! I resisted calling The Homeplace where my two brothers, aka The Recipients, where likely quite content playing Mario Kart on the '64.' No, I wanted to see their faces when I told them the news: "Wii consoles were arriving at a local Fred Meyer tonight."

I felt like a hero. The news was received triumphantly. Groans followed, at the prospect of waking up at 6:30 am just to get, what was in the grand scheme of things, just a stupid toy. The evening progressed with a buzz of anticipation.

10:40 pm. Anxiousness declared victory. People of action, un-content with malcontent, the phone book was retrieved. One Fred Meyer was called in Hillsboro. "No shipments today."

10:43 pm. The Beaverton Fred Meyer was called, the site of the rumored shipment.

"Yes! We just received them!" declared the representative on the other end of the line. What! We all stood up. Unbelievable!

"So they're available?!" my sister-in-law quickly confirmed.

"Yes!" the clerk replied.

"So we can buy one right now?"

"Yes," the clerk replied.

"And you're open until 11pm?"

"Ye--".

We were out the door, inadvertantly leaving the sister-in-law who was on the phone behind.

10:47 pm. We departed from an area in Washington County near 185th and West Union. We were headed to Beaverton. Under normal circumstances, the trip would take 20-30 minutes, depending on traffic on 26 and 217. This time of night, it would probably take 12-15 minutes.

My car only nearly choked twice. I really should have already taken it in for the 100k maintenance. But gifts trump car mainteance — at least in December. Evenso, we were making good time. The Little Engine That Could, a '98 Saturn SL, fed off our combined adrenaline and brought us to the door of the Beaverton Fred Meyer at

10:58 pm.

Eleven minutes later and two minutes before closing, doors slammed and we ran to the entrance. Composing ourselves, we walked nonchalantly to the Electronics counter. Hastily, we looked for an employee. Were we in time?

We found a clerk in Electronics. Our hero. Oh the sweet anticipation.

"Do you have any Wiis?" we inquired.

"Yes," he declared importantly. "They're locked in my office."

"Can we purchase one?" we wondered, as politely as we could muster.

"No," the man in the white shirt and black tie replied. He started to back away.

"But it's 10:58." I offered. Maybe he didn't know that the store was still open.

"I know it's 10:58." Apparently, he did know. But his reply now decidedly included a noticieable tone of "snark."

"We just talked to someone in this department who said we could buy one before closing. That's why we're here." Now were were really confused. But "confusion" was not to be our fate tonight. No, tonight, we were to be served a Thanksgiving-sized platter of "Utter Let-Down." That was our fate this evening. He replied:

"I'm in charge here." He was beginning to look very short in his little Fred Meyer manager's outfit. Maybe it was the change in perspective as he not-so-slowly-anymore backed away. Maybe it was the change in our attitude. "I don't know who you talked to" (it was you, you little short man) "...but they're not for sale until the morning. Come back at 7. Everyone gets a fair chance." Jaws dropped. Eyebrows furled in disbelief. But he was most definitely walking away now. We were finished.

We were defeated.

We were incredulous. We walked silently back to the car. The woman in the car we parked next to must have thought were were crazy teenagers out looking for trouble. She would have been half-right. We were too old for this and should have known better. But oh the thrill! Oh the adventure! Oh the utter and complete let-down.

The car doors shut and we exploded in disbelief, conspiracy theories, and finally laughter. The sister-in-law who was left behind called, "Did you get it?!"

"No," I replied. "The manager with a short man's complex said 'He's in charge here' and wouldn't sell us an item that he declared to be in-stock."

"What?!" she replied. She would tell us more when we arrived home.

She explained that she had called again to confirm that, yes, they were in-stock, yes, they were available right now to buy, and yes, they were open until 11 pm and if we got there in time, they could be ours.

But it all turned out to be a bunch of incredible lies. Were we lied to unwittingly or was it intentional? We will never know. Defeated and deflated, disenchanted and disgusted, we vowed never to buy a Wii from that Fred Meyer.

The End.

EPILOGUE

January 8, 2007. 11:00 am. Seth and April found the Wiis at Target in Olympia! Hooray! Me thinks a road trip to Olympia is in my future...

Posted by Amber at January 5, 2007 05:26 PM