Sleepless for Love in Milwaukee

One week ago was the official start of the 2005 holiday shopping season. In true American style, shoppers trampled each other and slept outside for the right to buy more stuff first, sooner or cheaper. Like most of you, I shook my head and gave a disgusted "tsk, tsk" at these commercial whores, making ridiculous attempts to keep up with and surpass the Joneses, the Smiths and everyone else in the neighborhood. I turned my nose up at their outlandish efforts until I remembered: "Oops, been there, done that."

Yes friends, I am here to tell you that once upon a time, I too slept outside of a store simply to purchase a piece of electronics. Why? Because I'm a mother and it's what I do. Here's the story and you can judge for yourself whether I deserve to be trampled:

It was the fall of 2000. My 8th grade son was about to turn 13. His world consisted of one thing: video games. He not only played them, he studied them, he read about them and he breathed them. For better or for worse, it was his passion. For his birthday, he wanted only one thing: Sony Playstation 2. He had put his name on a list to purchase one at the mall only to find out that Sony had craftily planned to undership, thereby insuring hyped-up demand. It was cruel and brilliant and made my son cry in desperation.

The local newscasts had stories about the high demand and low supply and interviewed store managers who bemoaned the fact that there would not be enough to go around. While my son was at school, I called every electronics retailer in the city, taking a survey of how many units they would receive in hopes I could reserve one, somehow. Alas, there would be only one way to get my hands on a PS2 and it involved getting in a line and sleeping outside.

Normally, I'd break the news to my son and just pray that the tears wouldn't last too long. But I mentioned this dilemma to my friend Jennifer (my son's godmother) and in her always adventurous spirit she said: "Let's sleep outside! I'll do it - it'll be fun!" And so began my journey towards becoming, in my son's eyes, the best mom ever.

First, I had to stake out a store where I had my best chances. Fortunately, I arrived at our local Best Buy store at around 10 pm and found myself 10th in line. I admit, I was pretty pumped. I called Jennifer and said: "C'mon down! I've got a spot in line." When I called my son, he was so excited, he could barely speak.

We were very lucky that it was an unseasonably balmy October evening, making the prospect of sleeping outside slightly less daunting. After the thrill wore down a bit, I looked around and took note of my fellow campers. Hmmm....there I was, a middle-aged mom, preparing to sleep outside of a store and I'm not only the only woman there, I'm the only person over the age of 25. Needless to say, I was a bit out of my element. Still, in any hunt, you must focus on the target. I was going to get a PS2 if I had to run over every one of these adolescents to do it.

Jennifer arrived at around 11 pm and we hunkered down and giggled for a while about how insane and wonderful this was. Then, we started to examine the logistics of food and bathrooms, neither of which would be provided by Best Buy. We figured it all out and then began observing the other campers. Those at the front of the line were young males. Eventually, others arrived that were older and more affluent, eyeing our coveted spots in the line. It became obvious that we'd have to protect our territory - i.e. spot #10. We just hoped it wouldn't get ugly. It did.

At around 11:30 pm, a car full of teenage boys roared past the store. They hung out of the windows and screamed: "Losers!" Gosh. As a mom, I'm called a lot of things, but that's not usually one of them.

Then at around 2 am, a man in his late 20s pulled up in his van, clearly frustrated by the already-too-long line and clearly under the influence of many substances. First, he tried to subtly ease his way into the front of the line. What, did he think we couldn't see him? The line wouldn't budge. Then he started yelling and swearing. He finally left in anger only to return once or twice to call us what the teenage boys in the car had called us: "Losers!" Yeah, well, we might be losers, but we're in line and he's not, so nanny-nanny boo-boo!

This was not camping under the quiet stars. Friends of line-sitters arrived to try and entertain with tricked-out cars a la "Pimp My Ride," complete with video game systems in headrests and thumping bass. Jennifer and I simply watched in awe. I silently prayed that I wasn't seeing a future version of my son.

As the night wore on, everyone quieted down. Jen and I alternated between sleeping and chatting with the boys in front of us whose father slept in a car nearby for their safety. (See, I'm not the only insane parent!)

When morning arrived, so did reporters, soon-to-be disappointed latecomers and my husband and kids with coffee and breakfast. I still remember the glow on my son's face as he looked at his mom and his godmother going to ridiculous lengths for his benefit.

We survived until the store opened when management escorted us to the holy grail, i.e. the Playstation 2 units and I could wrap my arms around the coveted item and breathe a deep sigh of relief...mission accomplished. Since Jennifer was also in line, she generously agreed to purchase a unit for my son's friend, making the two of us even more popular than before.

We returned home to phone calls of astonishment from friends and family. We became legends on the playground at school. I could hear whispers of shock and awe as I approached the flock of parents waiting for their children after school.

The real hero in all of this was Jennifer. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have slept outside and made my son the happiest he had ever been in his life. If it weren't for her, I would have missed out on one of the most bizarre and fun memories of my adult years.

I still remember watching my son unpack his PS2 after school that day. Nothing is as gratifying to a parent as watching their child in a moment like that. I can still feel the grateful hug he gave me that day.

I'm not sure if I'd do it again, but I'm sure glad I did it. Sometimes, if it feels right, you do what you have to.