I Want My Wii! Now!

Shoving ethics aside for a higher purpose, I rolled up to the nearby Wal-Mart at 11:40 last night in hopes of snagging the new supercool Nintendo Wii at its 12:01 release. A few kids were already in line, playing some hacky-sack. No problem. There should be enough. This would be a snap. I could even wait in the car.

More or less 4 hours later, it's 11:59. This is when it finally occurs to me that if this Wal-Mart is open 24 hours, why aren't the kids waiting inside?

Uh oh. Panic creeps in. Tears start to form. The inner child revs up a tantrum.

Another 2 hours (again, more or less) pass, and it's 12:01. The magic moment.

Nothing. Nada. Zip. The store is closed until morning.

Damn you Wal-Mart! What's the point of having ethically challenged megastores selling cheap products made by cheap labor and stocked by underpaid employees if they aren't open 24 hours day to cater to my immediate wish -- no, need -- to have the newest coolest toy?

Ok, ok. Breathe. I can get through this. The inner adult distracts the inner child with shiny objects and candy and puts him to bed. We can get up in the morning before Target opens and get in line. That should work. The lines won't be around the block. I mean, it's not like these are Playstation 3 buyers. Those people are crazy, camping out for days in the cold, getting mugged, in one case running headlong into a pole in a mad dash for one of the lawn chairs a store manager set out.

No sense of decorum. We Wii buyers, though, we're much more reasonable and mature.

So I roll out of bed a little after 7 and head for Target. The line isn't too long. I get in it. The inner child is practically giddy. The nice Target boys are handing out tickets. This is it. I get to be the first kid on my block with a Wii. (Ok, since many of my neighbors are in their 50s or older, I'm probably the only one trying to get a Wii, but that's their problem, not mine).

And then they run out of tickets. Before I get one.

The inner child is crushed, despondent. He goes through the 5 stages of grief (mad, really mad, really really mad, super pissed off, and furious). A raging debate ensues with the inner adult. It goes something like this:

Inner Adult: For crying out loud, you're 36 years old. I know you're an inner child and all, but grow up already.

Inner Child: Shut up!

Inner Adult: Look, you don't need the Wii right this very moment. You can wait. It's not like you don't have other toys and games to play with. Oh, and a job.

Inner Child: You're ugly and you smell funny.

Inner Adult: Nice. Now think about this for half a second you little brat. Not only do you already have lots of cool games to play, but this obsession with getting the newest coolest thing the second it hits the shelves is a reflection of American consumerism at its worst, a demonstration that we fail to appreciate what we ... Hey! What are you doing? ... Put that down. Now. ... Ouch, that hurt ... mmmffff ..... [thud]

At which point, the inner child clubs the inner adult with the Wii nunchuk controller, knocking him senseless, and trusses him up with the cords from his Nintendo Gamecube controllers (I mean, what else are you gonna do with them? Cords? On a controller? What kind of Luddite nonsense is that?).

Ok, inner child, you seem to have earned the last word. Your rebuttal?

Inner Child: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!! I WANT MY Wiiiiiiiii!