Black Friday.
Some may say it is a real-life MMO with little to no loot worth the exhaustive, sometimes violent effort it requires. YouTube is rife with videos of stores full of belligerent behavior on display, from pushing to outright fistfights over simple material items. Stories of injuries from trampling up to and including death proliferate the media, and this year the deals ratcheted back even further until Thanksgiving dinnertime itself is no longer safe. It's no exaggeration to say more civility has been seen over life-saving yet inadequate supply drops to the hurricane-devastated Philippines than the riot-like behavior Black Friday can cause over mostly-luxury items.
Aside from online sales that disappear in seconds, many gamers don't dare brave the masses during the biggest consumer holiday. And pretty much no one I talk to wants to actually
work in the midst of this retail nightmare. In fact, in the fifteen years or so I've worked in various sections of retail, I don't recall anyone else who looked forward to working that fateful day every year.
But let's put that thought on hold for a moment and take our thoughts into a decidedly different territory.
Say you're working at a Mom-and-Pop retro video game store. An elderly lady walks in, and the I-hope-I-don't-accidently-buy-another-Edsel look on her face is evident. (To you whippersnappers, replace 'Edsel" with 'Tiger Game.com'.) Before you even approach her, she eyes you with an almost helpless expression. Twenty minutes later she's walking out with an NES and a stack of games for her seven year old grandson, a PS3 and Madden for her Steelers-nut son-in-law, and a DS Lite and Brain Age for herself so she can learn new curses over the word 'blue'.
Next is that forty-something role-playing game lady who only shows up every two or three weeks and picks your brain about another game she can 100%. She's scared she's going to relapse into WoW again and desperately needs your help finding a game she hasn't played through twice already, and every Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, Suikoden, and even Wild Arms are crossed off her list. So the next fifteen minutes are spent scanning every shelf in the store to a bunch of 'beat that already' and 'hated the battle system'. Then comes the inevitable half-hour conversation about how Final Fantasy VI was better than VII and how IV was so great until it was redone to death. You finally convince her to splurge on a Genesis and Phantasy Star II, II, and IV, knowing she'll be back next month extolling the virtues of Phantasy Star IV while griping about slogging through III, which she of course finished anyway. You know next she'll want help tracking down a Master System and the first game in the series.
These type of scenarios are why many of us dream of working or even owning (go Crabby!) a video game store. If we have to work, and most all of us do, wouldn't it be great spending that time sharing our passion about gaming?
Even Gamestop, known for its pawn-shop attitudes and corporate shenanigans, is the source of many conversations about which is the best Bioshock game (bonus points if you said System Shock 2) or how anyone that says the Wii is a worthless console never played Muramasa and Boom Blox.
Working in gaming retail on Black Friday is the equivalent of speed-running these scenarios back to back. It's quite the rush; a non-stop barrage of folks with gaming and gifting desires. Despite not having the time to address every situation as I'd like, there are few opportunities to help so many gaming-minded folks in such a short time. Going in with a mind-frame to help out makes all the difference when the stress kicks in. An amazing amount of negativity can be dispelled in these powder-keg environments with a little humor and genuine thoughtfulness, for both consumer and fellow staff. Some problems can and will arise, but that's yet another opportunity to defuse the tension before it gets worse. Most of the problems tend to arise from the thoughtless, mob-like behavior that a few friendly conversations often dissolve. If all else fails, simply taking a step back and internally laughing at the absurdity of it all can greatly assist in re-approaching everything without getting dragged down. No matter how crazy it all gets, being vigilant on one's mental state going in is the key to not just surviving, but being in control and even enjoying such times.
If you're working in retail on any Black Friday, I recommend setting aside a good hour beforehand for buying a huge bag of clearance Halloween candy and your caffeine of preference, playing a few rounds of Katamari Damacy or your preferred peppy and upbeat mood-lightener, and pick a favorite gaming experience your store sells that becomes your mission to recommend to as many people as possible. When Shadow of the Colossus was largely unknown, I made it my personal quest that year to hock it to everyone. ("Here's your Gamecube. Great system that would be better if it could play Shadow of the Colossus. What? You've never heard of it? It's this beautiful game where...")
If you don't work in retail and are a gamer braving the chaos of doorbusters and midnight openings, please consider the same suggestions. We gamers still find ourselves fighting against stereotypes and stigmas of being antisocial, basement-dwelling, entitled losers who are the exact personalities that make Black Friday a byword. In the same way the charity of Child's Play gives a legitimacy to philanthropic video game players, in Black Friday we have a perfect chance to give gamers and gaming culture a much needed positive face. There is perhaps no greater opportunity in the year to prove the naysayers wrong and make a good name for ourselves and gamers in general.
