Today, Nintendo is launching the pink DS Lite here in Japan, and I totally forgot. Some time after morning yogurt and before I sat down to work, it hit me.

It's 9:30 am. Yodobashi Camera opens at 9:30 am, so that's who I call first.

No answer.

Other options? Sofmap doesn't open until 11:00 am. I grab an umbrella and head out.

In the last few months, I have purchased two DS Lites. One white and one navy. Yet, neither were mine as both were prizes for our contest winners.

Buying the white DS Lite was fairly easy, but getting the navy Lite was pure hell. After not being able to score one at launch, I spent the next two months, desperately trying to track one down. Readers sent in a constant stream of emails, asking whether or not I had been able to locate one. I finally found one, but it, like many things, came at a price.

Selfish sure, but I want one for myself. And if they are selling pink ones, chances are there will be Ice Blue, Crystal White and Enamel Navy Lites.

Rain pelts the train station. The Express splashes by, meaning I must wait for the Limited Express to pass before I catch the Local. It's 9:45 am. Yodobashi Camera has been opened for 15 minutes. I think about calling, but I have neither my keitai nor the store's phone number. I get on the train.

Of course, this particular train is not bound for Umeda, so I have to transfer. And wait. And wait so much.

Everyday, over 20 million people pass through Umeda Station. Today, pencil me in. I slap the IC card in my wallet on the reader, and the ticket wickets automatically open, charging my account. Down escalators, sweep by a McDonald's and a group of school girls that should be in class.

There's no line in front of Yodobashi Camera. Last time the Lites launch here, thousands of people showed up, and thousands were turned away at 7:00 am when the portables sold out.

The store is fairly empty, dotted with sweatered employees move boxes, looking busy. It's just as important to look busy as it is to actually be it. Video games are on the 5th floor. I take the escalators.

I'm all elbows, running up the escalators, passing children and mothers and counting off the floors to myself: 3rd, 4th and 5th.

I take at quick right, through a row of capsule machines and arrive.

The game's floor has been moved. I do a quick about-face and race back down the escalators, all the way down the the basement.

A Yodobashi Sweater holding a sign is standing at the bottom of the escalator, and another Sweater waves me to the end of a line with around forty customers. We're standing in the figurine aisle.

"What time did people start lining up?"
"I'm not really sure."
"How many units did you guys get?" I ask.
"Can't say," says the helpful Sweater. "But you should be able to get one."
"Are there any navy Lites?"
"No. Only pink."

Swell.

Another Sweater comes over and tells us to go stand in another line. The shop staff are screaming, telling customers to move down, announcing loudly when they put 20,000 yen in the till.

They come in all shapes and sizes, Noble Pink DS Lite customers. College students playing hooky, men in business suits doing likewise, housewives, gray hairs, but oddly no children. I count off 43 people, around 15 of which are women, 20 are men and the rest are senior citizens. A steady, continuous flow of customers enters and exits the line. It's like water.

"Think you're going to sell out today?" I ask the Sweater at the register.
"Most likely, yes."

I notice the stack of boxes in the back. More impressive is the stack of empty Nintendo cardboard boxes like discarded candy wrappers. The Sweater asks me if I want a Hori DS Lite screen protector. I decline. Any games? No, just the Lite, thank you very much. The paper bag is sealed shut with a sticker and then enclosed in plastic to protect it from getting wet.

If anyone asks, I do have a DS Lite, and yes, it's Noble Pink. Brian Ashcraft

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