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Offline Fen
Jul. 21st, 2007 12:15 amI decided to get the book at midnight, on the "Why not?" basis (I regularly stay up past twelve anyway). In order to get my father and brother to participate, I upgraded the arguments to include "screw Walmart" and "cultural experience", which were enough.
So at about 11:30, we headed off to Walmart. As we parked the car in the not-quite-empty parking lot, a silvery minivan pulled up at the curb. A girl wearing a witch's hat, dangly streamer thingies, and some sort of tattered black robe hopped out, ran up to the door, seemed not to see what she wanted, and headed back into the car.
This sort of thing would at least be understandable if Walmart was throwing a party, but they very evidently weren't.
The Walmart has two sets of doors. Set A opened, and set B, to the main store, did not. Inside we could see one of Walmart's employees. Right by the set B that wasn't opening was a large display proclaiming that the seventh Harry Potter book would be available at 12:01.
We conferred. I mentioned retail chains and blanket advertising and not necessarily applying at this particular one, but decided to wait the remaining few minutes and see if they opened the store then.
We'd barely taken our seats outside before two more cars pulled in and parked, disgorging passengers. They headed toward the doors, asking us if the store was open. We said we weren't sure, but followed when they headed in.
While we had been content to glance inside and move away again, the foremost family (mother, college age daughter, son/boyfriend) quickly latched onto the sign, then attempted to get the employee's attention. He walked a few steps closer to the still shut doors and attempted to communicate, holding up seven fingers and pointing to his watch.
Go away and come back at seven, when Walmart opened? Or wait seven minutes, at which point it would be 12:01? People were beginning to steam in, forming a small crowd while the family tried to get this issue resolved.
Seven AM, he managed to get across.
Cue fit.
It said 12:01. It said it right there, by the door, this was false advertising. Threats were made. Complaints were lodged. The employee attempted to explain that he was not the manager, and that the manager was not there. (Personally, I imagine the manager was asleep. Alternatively, hiding in the stockroom reading the book.) More threats were made involving cameras, false advertising, and a particular display by the door. He retreated to call someone on a phone. He returned to again try to convince everyone that no, really, seven AM. The display was yet again pointed out with the growing desperateness and wheedling tone that brought to mind drug addiction. Harry Potter fans, that's a horrible cliche and I wish you'd taken that into account before behaving as such.
Finally, books were wheeled out on a platform right in front of the doors, which opened. Had badgering and vague threats about false advertising worked? Or perhaps the pleas about how they had the books right there, couldn't they just...?
No, as it turned out. The employee used the open doors to come out and explain the cashiers were not there, and they could not sell any books. But didn't he know how to work the cash register? pleaded one of them, which was then repeated with minor variations a few dozen times, like every other comment. Again, he attempted to convince them that they could not get the book right now. More minutes passed and he finally told everyone to leave and come back at seven, which was met with bitter muttering about how they wouldn't.
Cheerily, I headed out as the group behind me checked their watches.
12:02, one said. Two whole minutes ago I could have been reading Harry Potter.
So at about 11:30, we headed off to Walmart. As we parked the car in the not-quite-empty parking lot, a silvery minivan pulled up at the curb. A girl wearing a witch's hat, dangly streamer thingies, and some sort of tattered black robe hopped out, ran up to the door, seemed not to see what she wanted, and headed back into the car.
This sort of thing would at least be understandable if Walmart was throwing a party, but they very evidently weren't.
The Walmart has two sets of doors. Set A opened, and set B, to the main store, did not. Inside we could see one of Walmart's employees. Right by the set B that wasn't opening was a large display proclaiming that the seventh Harry Potter book would be available at 12:01.
We conferred. I mentioned retail chains and blanket advertising and not necessarily applying at this particular one, but decided to wait the remaining few minutes and see if they opened the store then.
We'd barely taken our seats outside before two more cars pulled in and parked, disgorging passengers. They headed toward the doors, asking us if the store was open. We said we weren't sure, but followed when they headed in.
While we had been content to glance inside and move away again, the foremost family (mother, college age daughter, son/boyfriend) quickly latched onto the sign, then attempted to get the employee's attention. He walked a few steps closer to the still shut doors and attempted to communicate, holding up seven fingers and pointing to his watch.
Go away and come back at seven, when Walmart opened? Or wait seven minutes, at which point it would be 12:01? People were beginning to steam in, forming a small crowd while the family tried to get this issue resolved.
Seven AM, he managed to get across.
Cue fit.
It said 12:01. It said it right there, by the door, this was false advertising. Threats were made. Complaints were lodged. The employee attempted to explain that he was not the manager, and that the manager was not there. (Personally, I imagine the manager was asleep. Alternatively, hiding in the stockroom reading the book.) More threats were made involving cameras, false advertising, and a particular display by the door. He retreated to call someone on a phone. He returned to again try to convince everyone that no, really, seven AM. The display was yet again pointed out with the growing desperateness and wheedling tone that brought to mind drug addiction. Harry Potter fans, that's a horrible cliche and I wish you'd taken that into account before behaving as such.
Finally, books were wheeled out on a platform right in front of the doors, which opened. Had badgering and vague threats about false advertising worked? Or perhaps the pleas about how they had the books right there, couldn't they just...?
No, as it turned out. The employee used the open doors to come out and explain the cashiers were not there, and they could not sell any books. But didn't he know how to work the cash register? pleaded one of them, which was then repeated with minor variations a few dozen times, like every other comment. Again, he attempted to convince them that they could not get the book right now. More minutes passed and he finally told everyone to leave and come back at seven, which was met with bitter muttering about how they wouldn't.
Cheerily, I headed out as the group behind me checked their watches.
12:02, one said. Two whole minutes ago I could have been reading Harry Potter.
