I'm the sixth person in line. Ichabod is the seventh as waiting behind the blockade cost him the number one spot. Poor Ichabod. Those dudes in the puffy coats really should've him go ahead.

Jingle Bells is drifting in from the loudspeakers out front. Otherwise, the store is deathly quiet. Customers and clerks don't appear to be talking, but are like characters out of a silent movie. Soundless lips moving at 24 frames-per-second. I'm holding my copy of Ridge Racer on my way to the register. Ichabod hasn't picked up any 360 titles. There's a small anime-like crab on his backpack, I notice.

Ninja Shot is scurrying around, snapping pics with that absurdly overdramatic gesture. He puts the digicam back in his pocket, only to take it out with that stupid motion again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Taking a pic of this is impossible as Ninja Shot is too quick—a quickness that is unnerving.

I want to smack him.

There's a display next to the register, covered with PSP games. Ichabod leans over, picks up a title and gives it a good, hard look. He's holding a copy of Yawaraka Atama Juku, an English teaching UMD with bikini-girls. He holds onto the game, not putting it down. He's actually intends to buy it. What about the Xbox 360? We in this together, Ichabod. Yer not gonna ditch me now, are you? Are you?

I'm up next. At the register, there's a stack of Dead or Alive 4 cards on the counter. With no needless bundles to choose from, the decision is painless and easy. Peripherals are cheaper than in the US, and I buy an extra wireless controller. Folks have no idea how good they have it.

"What are those cards for?"
"They are for customers who pre-ordered the Xbox 360."
The stack is big.
"Can I have one?"
The clerk gives me a big, fake smile.
I'll take that as a no.

The bag is white says Xbox 360 and is heavy. I tell that to the clerk, and he agrees. It is heavy. Before I leave, I scan the store, trying to find Ichabod. A handfull of people line up for the Xbox. Others look at computer games, DS games, PS2 games. It's just another day at Sofmap. No sign of Ichabod or the PSP game he purchased. I make my way out to the street, looking both directions. Nothing. He must've bought a 360. He must've.

The bag's straps cut into my shoulder as I fish through my pocket for some spare change. Bidding my haunt goodbye, I buy one last cocoa, down it and head up the street. It's alive with foot traffic and mid-morning sunlight, when I make my way onto the main boulevard. I'm the only person with a 360 bag for what seems like miles.

We Enter Sofmap...Finally! [Kotaku]

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