An early morning retail door-crasher in Calgary consists of 30 pick-up trucks and mini-vans idling in a strip-mall parking lot, even if it's not a frosty December weekend.
At the appointed hour of 7:15 a.m., the first snow-crushing carriages break suburbia's tranquility. It's important for both parents to doze off in the vehicle as it replaces the still suspension of ice with clouds of carbon monoxide and other fine products of incomplete combustion. The store does not open for almost two hours, so they wait. Minutes later, another. And another still, a comforting pace until someone eyeballs more headlights or taillights than the score of trickets advertised. The early arrives silently reassure themselves a place in some imaginary line, inferred by the unspoken rules of the community and insured by close proximity to the front door. As long as no one actively wants a leg up on each other, everyone can suffocate warmly in their vehicles.
As still more weary prospective consumers arrive, thinking changes in the community. "Maybe /they/ want that /other/ $40 disposable bauble for $40 off. They're certainly not as smart as we are. We're getting the better deal by paying $150 for the $200 disposable bauble! We've earned the right to that deal by sacrificing time with our families and our health to be here at this unholy pre-dawn hour."
Thirty vehicles.
"There are 40 disposable baubles in total, so /we/ can 'share' the bad $40 'deal' with /them/. We're still a communi--"
Someone has broken the line!
Every vehicle sends a sleepy-legged runner across the black ice and through an arriving flow of vehicles to the front door. The first from a vehicle to arrive asks the pedestrian checking his mobile under the canopy: "Do you work here?"
Not even a 'hello'? What happened to friendly Canada or Calgary or the small-town community values that we supposedly hold dear?
The queue of people instantly blooms to 40. Others still file in, noting that some in line are couples and the "deals" were offered "one per family". But the scurrying and the mixing had obliterated the class system of the parking lot, and none would be assured that their early morning wagers and sacrifices would grant a leg up on their fellow man.
The school across the street has taught that interpersonal competition is the goal of social organization, and that standardized tests of memorization and uncritical thinking prescribed by some authority should sort the haves (for social standing and scholarships) from the have nots. By day, hundreds of parents the athletic park hoping that their child outscores and defeats all the others to become Canada's next great sports hero, yet they count on coaches and referees to somehow impartially adjudicate merit based on glimpses of attention. In suburbua, cedar shakes and stucco set some home owners apart from those with asphalt shingles and siding, according to environmental or insurance experts whose competing sciences defy comprehension. Even within the parking lot of vehicles, those aboard riced-up GMCs literally and figuratively look down upon the few compact cars that dare to show up.
Only an authority figure could sort this perceived unfairness, and sorting out this retail scarcity must be the first priority of the community. The early community's assumptions about enjoying both comfort and discount access to baubles must not be preempted by someone not subscribing to the community's ungrounded rules and limits. Only the early arrivals should be entitled to take advantage of /the/ rules, and no one else.
The crowd greedily await the pedestrian's response, knowing that their communal assumptions and individual failures to act have screwed somebody, and that they have each yielded the capacity to effectively watch over themselves.
And they will all return for next week's sale.
Be the pedestrian.
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Of vaguely related note, a big chain store (not offering the spectacle above) holds a team meeting of everyone except cashiers and greeters at 8:45 a.m. in the furniture section. They had daily sales of $310,000 yesterday, down 1.2 per cent from the same date last year. Their biggest sales were (in descending order): groceries ($35k), pharmacy, electronics, ladies wear, and infant consumables. All were up $1,000-3,000 from last year. Their daily shipment consists of three freight trucks totalling 1,000 food items; and 3 trucks totalling 3,000 non-food items.
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