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I spent this past Friday night into Saturday morning in line with my younger daughter at our local Barnes & Noble. We were waiting, of course, for the long-awaited 7th (and last) Harry Potter book.
There were enough interesting things that happened during our wait that I wanted to blog about the experience. Of course, eWEEK.com is a technology-focused Web site, so I tried to come up with a technology hook.
Hmm. Were RFID tags used to track the cases of books? Could RFID or some other technology tell whether the cases had been opened before the appointed hour? Did Barnes & Noble have to scale its servers (and by how much) to meet the extra and off-hours sales demand? Was the online site slowed down by extra traffic during the witching hour? What kind of software was being used to track sales? How did the wireless networks inside of the bookstores handle the increased load? Is there any algorithm that can be developed to ensure that you don't happen upon a spoiler on the Internet? (Reverse Googling?)
Discuss. And while you're at it, take a look at a slideshow that puts some of the spells cast by Harry, Snape, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and others into IT perspective.
OK, now I can move on to the human interest stuff:
As we pulled into the mall in which our B&N is located, I thought, this isn't too bad. The parking lot doesn't look any different than any other Friday night at Barnes & Noble. But then I remembered that it was 11:00 p.m., and all the other stores in the mall were closed. The parking lot was totally full.
The line of people stretched from the bookstore past Office Max and T.J. Maxx. Anyone who was doing this for the first time would have gone to the end of the line, as my daughter and I did for the last book. At that time, it took me quite a while to realize that everyone else on line was wearing bracelets. I inquired whether there was some system in place that wasn't apparent to us. Turned out we had to go to a table in front of the store and sign in and get a paper bracelet. (The table was totally obfuscated by the crowd.) That was kind of inefficient, I thought. They did the same thing this time, but my daughter and I knew better, and headed right for the table we knew was hidden from sight. We got our bracelet (yellow, because we had reserved a copy, with the word "aqua" written on it). I noticed several angry people throughout the night who didn't know about this system and waited for a good long time before getting their bracelets. Too bad this was their last chance.
We are very regular customers of this bookstore, and I know all of the employees by sight. It seems like B&N hired some people (or bribed them with a book) to serve as backup. Too bad these people weren't educated in (1.) crowd control, (2.) diplomacy or (3.) common courtesy. Their idea of getting the ever-increasing crowd into line (literally) was to scream at the top of their lungs. Didn't work. (And the crowd was far from unruly--people were just waiting for direction.)
The colors on the wristbands determined when you got into the store to get your book (in groups of about 25 to 30, it looked like). First were Red, Blue and Green. Then the colors got fancier. Indigo followed Green, then our group, Aqua, followed by Magenta. (I didn't pay attention past that.)
Each of the groups seemed to form a little community, as the people in them compared themselves to the groups ahead and behind. Everyone also made sure that, say, someone in Magenta didn't cut in front of someone in Indigo. (I told my daughter they should have issued us T-shirts in the same color as our group. Boy, that would have been a sociological experiment for the ages!)
There was a 10-second countdown to midnight. Hurrah! Our wait was almost over!
We all watched with envy as the Red group got led into the store. The first person to emerge held her book up in triumph. She had it! A little boy of about 7, dressed head to toe in Harry Potter garb, asked if he could touch the book. The young woman said yes, and the little boy looked like he would faint after his fingers brushed the orange-hued cover.
Several people exiting the store were reading while they were walking. The understanding crowd parted so these uber-serious Potter fans could pass without being trampled or run over.
Speaking of being run over, what sane person would decide to drive their car in front of the store, requiring several hundred people to get out of their way? Several idiots did just that.
The Aqua crowd reached the doors of the bookstore at about 45 minutes after midnight. My daughter and I looked at each other with a mixture of excitement and accomplishment. We were almost there. (And we were having a great time together.)
We were greeted by smiling employees who welcomed us into the store.
For the last book, commemorative posters and rubber bracelets were given out. Not so this year. The Starbucks cafe in Barnes & Noble did set up a table inside the store, selling water and cookies to the famished queuers.
The line wound all the way around the store, coming up through the science fiction and fantasy aisle. Coincidence or demographically-savvy upsell opportunity? Not sure, but I did note Neal Stephenson's books and think, "I believe I'm the only person who has worked inside eWEEK Labs who hasn't read those books." You see, I'm not much of a science fiction and fantasy fan. Something about the Harry Potter series hit a nerve, though.
Every register at the store was manned (or womanned). The clerk who waited on my daughter and me asked how many books we had reserved. We had only reserved one. Now, we had it all worked out that my daughter would read the book whenever she wanted during the day and until it was time for her to go to sleep. Then, she'd pass it to me, and I'd read as much as I could till I conked out. We swore that whoever was ahead would not reveal any plot points to the other. But I suddenly wanted to read the book right away. I told the clerk that we had reserved one, but could I get two? That seemed to throw him for a huge loop, and the people behind me looked ready to cast there own special spell on me, so I said one was fine.
My daughter and I left the store with a sense of satisfaction mixed with exhaustion. As we headed to the car, she asked if she could turn the interior light on to read. I told her yes. I didn't hear a peep from her the whole ride home.
When we got home, my daughter passed the book to me. I opened it with a sense of anticipation and sadness. I only got through Chapter One that night.
The next day (er, I guess it was the same day) I had to go to our local wholesale club store--a usual Saturday errand. As I entered the store, the first thing I saw was several hundred copies of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" stacked on pallets. Yes, I could have waited, but the experience was worth it.
Have you made a technology connection with Harry Potter? Or just want to relate your experience. Comments are most welcome! |
