A phantasmagorical collection, a fetching cornucopia of colourful costumes heaved outside the closed glass doors. International influencers had whipped kids into a frenzy of anticipation for this new, must-have gizmo, and there were only four outlets in Victoria. A clever twist was the decision not to have online sales. Amazon went ballistic, but its legal challenge was dismissed.
Three individual pieces made up the complete assemblage. Each segment came in almost identical packaging, with a small code on the side of the box as the only sure distinguishing feature: unless you ripped the boxes open.
As 9 am drew closer, the frenzy beyond the glass continued to churn. Parents, mostly Mums, were making up a separate, but equally anxious herd, attempting to maintain contact with their ‘smalls.’
I was Security Central, on my own, instructed to mingle amongst the invasion of the diminutive ‘forty thousand’. I was to be an unobtrusive force against anticipated pilfering. My short 155-centimetre stature was taken as the ideal benchmark for the task. Somebody in management had also heard of my earlier triumph: my use of colour to obfuscate. I was asked to wear my old ensemble of mossy green tartan leotards, camellia pink shorts, and my wonderful, canary-yellow singlet.
“Two minutes! Everybody please, into position.” We were all a little nervous as the floodgates opened; two hundred squealing kids surged forward.
The tethered balloons at the entrance were the first casualty; strings caught underfoot, they popped noisily. Neatly stacked tables quickly disintegrated; boxes unceremoniously ripped apart, some instantly discarded, others held under arms as shoppers charged onto other tables in pursuit of the next piece of the sought-after prize.
Triumphal shrieks, exasperated sighs, and the crowd moved across the floor. I was alert and was sure I saw a kid stuff the contents of one of the boxes down the front of her pants!
That Mum in the purple duffel: yep, she just dropped two packages into her green Woollies shopping bag. I tackled her first, maneuvering up behind her to insist she open the bag. She started verbally abusing me; she swore, then upended the bag onto the floor before stomping off into the crowd.
The kid with the loaded pants had disappeared. Scanning the crowd, I think I saw her running out the front doors. Two boys each had an armful of boxes. I watched as a parent started to shepherd them towards the doors, but I moved quickly, intercepting and redirecting them into the check-out aisle.
A bloody lady with a pram. One look at her face told me she was hiding something. I walked over and asked to inspect the pram. OMG, there’s not even a baby, just a large doll atop three of our boxes! She abandoned the pram and headed for the exit!
I learnt a lot about humanity’s ingenuity today! The art of shoplifting; the various hidey-holes, the necessary attitude, if apprehended. I thwarted several attempted thefts, but admit to losing a few during the frenzy. Our tills were happy!