Saturday morning, Umeda Station. Businessmen stumble from a night of drinking, hostess scuttle to catch the train home and groups of kids squat for no apparent reason. It's a little after 5:00 am, and I'm heading over to Yodobashi Camera. I buy a bottle of lemon tea on my way out of the station. My throat is dry, raw. Kid gets better, and I get sick. The joys of parenting.

Last week, over 600 people lined up at the Yodobashi Camera in Umeda. There were only 400 units, and the remaining people were turned away. I'm chancing it, I know, but Nintendo's got to release more than 400 units. It's a gamble, but a safe one, I figure.

During the actual launch, there was only one color (Crystal White), but today the company's releasing two new ones (Enamel Navy and Ice Blue). My game plan? Today, I figure hit Yodobashi, buy the Navy one, and then hit another shop and pick up one for myself.

Hitting the street, I see lights flashing. It's a patrol car. I move up the boulevard towards Yodobashi Camera, the single biggest electronics retailer in Osaka. Over five stories, it's like a department store for digital cameras, appliances and video games. There looks to be a fifty people or so in line. It's hard to tell, being so dark. I cross the street.

A security guard holding a sign that says the end of the line is "over there." I turn to see the line wrap around the building.

"Excuse me," I venture to a businessman in red rimmed glasses. "What time did you get here?"
"At 8 pm."
"Yesterday?"
"Yes."

The guy is fifty or sixty people away from the front. I start walking towards the end of the line. It's like a cross-section of Japanese society. All walks of life are here: salarymen, office ladies, couples, hipsters, housewives and even the occasional Westerner. On closer inspection, their faces look torn and frayed. They look like hardcore addicts in desperate need of a hit.

I pass a guy, early twenties, playing a Crystal White DS Lite. Delicious irony. The screen glows, and I lean over to ask him:

"What are you waiting for?"
"The DS Lite."
"But you have one already."
"Yeah."
"And you're waiting again?"
"Yeah, I really want the Navy."
That makes two of us, kiddo. Rather, three. You, me and our contest winner.

The line continues to wrap around the building. When I think I've reached the end, it keeps going. Endless. Like a snake eating its own tail. Finally, I locate the end. There are two middle-aged security guards, one with a bullhorn. The other has a stack of tickets.

Whew. Reserve tickets. I'm number 1850 in line. That means even though there are 1849 people in front of me, I've done it. I've bagged the prize. Wait a little longer, exchange this for a Lite and we're good to go.

"What's this?" the guy in front of me asks the security guard. "Can we get a DS with this?"

No. I look at the ticket. It's not a reserve ticket and says so. Crap.

"There's no guarantee that you'll get a DS Lite," says the security guard.
Hey, that's exactly what this ticket says!
"Why are you handing these out?" I ask.

The security guards ignores me.

"How many units are there?" I press.

Still ignoring me.

"How many units are there?" I repeat.
"I dunno," he says.

Screw it. This is an exercise in futility. I run over to the taxi stand, hop in a cab and tell the driver "Den-Den Town. And quick." I crumple up the Yodobashi DS slip and stick it in the ashtray. The lemon tea does nothing for my throat.

DS Lite [Official Site]

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