Tech

Life is unique for me.

This is a new story.

It was about 8 o’clock that Miguel started feeling he’d bitten off more than he could chew with this whole waiting in line overnight thing. He was waiting so much for his expectative. Hs mind is so much like the ocean and he watched for the incoming ship, calmed on the surface with so many deep under currents, all of them with their own purpose. He was a daydreamer like me and you.
He’d never done it before, and as he had rocked up outside the Tech-Store just after dinner that evening, around 5pm, he’d seen all the hardcore techy geeks already camping out there, and he was given the distinct impression that he was packing rather light for the night’s wait.

But it was the summer; school was out for good – until they headed off to college in the autumn – so where was the need to stress about anything? He had his kindle packed full of books he could quiet happily bury his head in for hours and hours on end, it was wonderfully warm out, without a cloud in the sky. Reading the book was much like being slapped with a wet kipper, shocking, attention grabbing, but not entirely pleasant. The online book had a vice-like grip on his mind, it’s twisted reality began to distort his own, challenging the once mundane facts of his existence, bringing him into a new turbulent realm where even his sense of self was up for grabs.
His favorite books were about Japanese authors such as Harukari Murakami.

So, what did he need sleeping bags or tents or camping stoves for?

He got quite a good position in the line, considering – just around the corner from the store entrance, and the speed the line was forming, in no time he could consider himself toward the front of the queue.

He settled down just behind a gaggle of lively, talkative girls, and ahead of a gloomy bunch of black-haired emo types.

The girls all seemed to be close friends that had overlooked the possibility of one of them waiting in line for all of their purchasing needs when the next iPad officially went on sale. Well, on the news that morning they’d been saying there would be limited supplies – the Apple guys would probably restrict it to one iPad per buyer.

It saw an especial girl. Her palm caressed his cheek, the lines on her hand catching his attention. They swirled on her hand like an unfinished drawing. Her long bony fingers were stroking my cheek, but all I could see were her red knuckles. Wine-red blotches from the cold. Her hands bore the innocence of a young girl; soft and delicate.

It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hang out – sitting cross-legged with only a backpack holding a paltry few snacks and drinks to keep him comfortable. But hey, he’d waited in airports and ports in worse places for longer periods before. And having the gentle scent of perfume wafting past his nose every now and again from a group of undeniably attractive girls was mildly pleasant.

He worked in a job that he needed to travel a lot. So, he could wait without desperation. But at this moment he had so angst. The wait seemed eternal.
He could remember an airport in France. He described the airport as like a sea of faces moving in an unseen current, flowing like water to their destinations like a wide river down the aisles. Small groups would sometimes stop and cause a small eddy, but the others would flow around the outside and continue on their way. There were plasma screens of arrival and departure times on the wall of the airport. People were lined up at the check in desk with suitcases and baggage. There was a sculpture of a whale with water cascading from it’s mouth and flowing down it’s tail flukes. In the background soft classical music played. In the arrivals lounge there was a curious mixture of bored and excited people. Some looked like they were waiting for a bus, others like they were children waiting for Santa himself. Some lounged on the low comfy chairs and others bounced on their toes.
So, he was in a long line at that time. Gazing back on the great long line, it seemed that those waiting there were all circling into their own little cliques to wait out the night. It made Miguel feel very much anxiety. He saw the anxiety in the young people of the line.

He found some distraction in flicking surreptitious glances over to the girls if he started feeling solitary. There were five of them – two blondes, a Japanese girl and two brunettes – all pretty and smiley and bouncy and perky. Behind, the emo crowd was less entertaining – sullen, moody, and difficult to tell even what gender many of them were. Those nearest to him turned their backs on him as they focused on their own little world of depressing ipod tracks, black clothing and random piercings.
He liked the special clothes that they have. Each to their own, however. Miguel had always been a little envious of those students who’d found their own sense of identity – he was just an average guy who really had nothing special to write home about.

Perhaps college would be a chance to shine.

Sure, he did regret failing to check whether any of his friends might have wanted to come along, keep him company in the line. Isaac was never going to vacate a warm bed for even one night, of course, but Jeremy and Peter were always able to find a hint of adventure in even the most unfortunate of circumstances.

But, they’d probably cackle at him for being a big geek, waiting all night just to get his hands on a new iPad. Why can’t you just wait until the next day, or the next week, when the rush will be over? They’d probably say something similar, anyway. Even if he told them it was his sister’s birthday was the following day, and it was seriously important that he get her desperately-desired tablet before then, they probably wouldn’t understand.

For the first couple of hours he tried to focus on his book – a chunky Stephen King tome he hadn’t gotten around to reading yet, even though it had been out for a while.

“Hey, how’s it going?” his mom called at about eight o’clock, worried about her little man.

“Oh, fine, yeah. I got a good place in line.”

“Are you warm enough? Do you want me to bring some more clothing?”

“It’s sunny out.”

“It won’t be for much longer. It gets cold at night when there’s no clouds, Miguel.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He talked quietly into his iPhone, not wanting to be overheard, especially by the girls up ahead. He didn’t think they’d be listening in – they had their own constant stream of conversation about this album or that album or the latest relationship status of friends not currently present to protect themselves from gossip. Even so, he didn’t want them knowing the only person who knew he was here was his mother.

A little later, as the sun started to drop rapidly drop the other stores of this open-air mall, and the breeze took on a slight chill, he started to regret not asking his mother to bring something warm. He had a thin sweatshirt he could put on – but he’d been using that as a cushion the past couple of hours, after his butt went to sleep on that hard concrete sidewalk, and he was loathed to go back to bare ground.

But seriously, when he glanced over and saw how attractive those girls were, and how much more stylishly they were dressed – and clearly more popular than him at whichever school they attended, you could tell from their bounding self-confidence levels – there was no way he could have faced a visit from his mom in front of them. How humiliating that would be.

So he’d suffer in silence.

The light faded, and the light of his kindle came on. Stephen King was always good for passing time – his conversational style had never failed to comfort Constant Reader Miguel, even if it was supposed to be horror fiction.

While he did his best to respect their privacy, some of the girls’ conversation did catch his ears from time to time.

About 10 o’clock, a group of three guys turned up to say hello to the girls, and Miguel found himself trying to work out if any of them were actually dating. The girls were batting their eyelids like crazy as the guys were standing above them, hurling out gentle taunts about waiting in line all night with a bunch of tech geeks, the guys pushing out their chests like big pidgeons to flaunt their athleticism, and Miguel had no doubt the three of them had been on the school football team or whatever. Probably had sports scholarships to somewhere impressive.