First In Line

Written September 11, 2013 

Sometimes the stars unalign.
I was burn under one of these.

"The GTA midnight opening is today!"
This was the exclamation of your plucky young hero on Monday.
"See, when a big game comes out, stores will do a midnight opening. That way, you can get the game as early as possible."
I could be heard telling anyone within earshot this information on Monday as I counted the seconds down.
I have trouble getting excited these days.
I can only assume that this is due to my involvement with reality lately.
In my chirlish youth, I detached myself from reality as often as possible.
My one remaining avenue for imposed boyhood is - you guessed it - video games.
Consequently, an excited Paul blabbered to everyone he encountered.
I really was behaving like I found the last Wonka ticket.
I was telling friends, family, co-workers, my drug dealer - even customers.
And as I jaunted about town on Monday, nothing could bring me down.
GTA was coming. Further, I had the day off on Tuesday.
Overly understanding Andie was going to give me the okay to completely disregard her Tuesday afternoon.
We're all set.
Midnight opening, guys!
Everything's going to be okay!
I stick Andie in bed at 10:30 and make my way to the store.
Got my tunes. Got my dope. Got my imitation milkshake.
Not going to find myself getting roped into a conversation.
I'm ready.
No one there upon my arrival.
I immediately denounce the north end of Halifax and question their dedication.
"Pussies," I utter as I search for a nearby pad with wi-fi.
Burger King is closed early due to renovations.
There's a BK lackey in the parking lot dismantling a bench with a grinder.
Unless your father was a mechanic, this is a sound that you generally hear on TV.
A low and persistent 'ereeeeeee' as the disc bites and shears the metal.
This echoes in the twilight as I walk to shitty Tim Horton's.
I don't even want the sandwich, but I'll need fuel.
Donuts are dried out and shitty, y'say? That's okay.
It's the GTA midnight opening.
Don't need a coffee, thanks. I have a fake milkshake right here.
I sit and watch launch trailers.

Eventually, I wander back over.
Parking lot's dark. No one's there.
It's well past eleven.
Now, 90% of men would leave at this point.
"Fuck this, I've got things to do."
Nope. I'm calling numbers. I'm checking websites.
This is Monday, right?
Yes. It's Monday.
Now, as it turns out, it's the wrong Monday, but I won't discover that for another few minutes.
It doesn't release until next week.
This dawns on me at a slowed rate due to denial.
Yet, it's perfectly clear as I stand alone in the dark, the din of the disc grinder peeling laughter right at me.