Everything was going great a month into it. My sweet angel was taking great care of her Tamagotchi and I was doing the same with mine. Each night, we would talk for a couple of hours on the phone about the most important things and the most inconsequential nothings and compare notes on our digital pets. Everything was going perfectly. I was really getting to know her. The more I learned about her, the more infatuated I got with her. I found out how happy she was as a little girl in Vietnam living with her loving parents and her sweet grandparents. I also found out how scared she was when the soldiers came and destroyed just about everything that her family had. I learned of their perilous journey to Malaysia where she lived for two months. She told me of the beautiful sceneries by the beach during the day and the recurring helling nightmares at night during the whole two months there.
Man, thinking about the Tamagotchi sure is depressing. I think I am going to read to get my mine off it.
- “Am I not the Harbinger of Death? Am I not also a Child? What powers do I hold, what potentiality do I contain? Am I not Little Father Time?”
Hilarious article. It's an interesting way to look at it.
I had one but I was late to the game because I was home-schooled until I was 9. My cousins got me one around that time but it was a knock off one that was a big ol' watch and the animal was a puppy. If I forgot about my little guy for too long it would sit around sad (or dead) surrounded by a massive amount of pixel poops that were almost as big as he was. The entire thing was utterly ridiculous.
I remember during snack time at school we would all run to our cubbies with our backpacks and feed or clean or play with our animal. We had to be careful though because they weren't allowed at school. It was my first lesson on how to discreetly do things so my teacher wouldn't notice, keeping my hands inside the depths of my backpack, furiously pressing the buttons as to not be caught.
I would later do this when I got my first cell phone when I was 15 and later when I was selling drugs in the back of my AP Calc class at 17. I had to be discreet and be aware of where the teacher was at all times without looking around the room. Casually but quickly. I got caught with my Tamagotchi knock-off and learned from my mistakes and never got caught when the punishment would've been much harsher than phone call to my parents.
I was disappointed to find that they weren't nearly as impressionable and interactive as suggested.
So we had two extra and I put one aside for myself and someone on the staff bought the other one for his niece. Fast forward to 5:15PM Christmas eve, the store had already closed and I was just about to have my assistant manager ring up my Furby. We heard a knock at the door and it was Mr. McCloud, quite possibly our favorite customer. Needless to say, he was looking for a Furby. I ended up selling him that Furby and ended up giving my nephews a Nintendo 64 instead.
The following week, a lot of these customers brought in the recipients of these Furbies to personally thank us. Needless to say, the staff and I were very moved by the whole experience. It was a great start to what would be a banner year of business for us.
- "Well, Sam, time to wrap up. You can close the store. Did you get your furby?"
"Sure did, boss. 'Twas a good night, wasn't it?"
"It sure was, Sam. Well, see ya."
And as all the lights inside were dimming and the snow outside the store was pilling up, a diminute figure, a prune of a person, came knocking on the window.
"Why, it's old McCloud!", said Sam as he opened the door, "I'm sorry, sir, but we're closing. What are you doing here on christmas eve, anyway?"
"Closing? Oh, shut. Well, that's what you get for leaving everything to the last minute. I was a looking for a very particular trinket, but it was sold out in every single shop."
"What were you looking for?"
"Oh, you probably don't have it either. It's one of those litte furry pets with the big ears..."
"That's the one. I don't suppose you have it, do you?"
Nobody would judge poor old Sam for not giving Mr. McCloud the little pet toy he was saving for his nephews. Nobody. But that's the thing with the holiday spirit: you just wanna make people fell good.
"Well, Mr. McCloud, you came in just in time. We have but one of those left. I'll get it for you."
"You do? That's marvelous!"
And so, trying to figure out the little gremlin -- "He's just like that one in the movie, isn't he?" --, Mr. McCloud headed off the store, but not before asking Sam:
"How was it tonight, Sam? Did you have a good night?"
"We sure did, sir. We sure did. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Sam."