At a minute to midnight on July 20, 2007, people were screaming at me from the other side of the cash register. They weren’t screaming at me because I had neglected to assist them with their purchases. They were screaming at me because I was the person who had the very first copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows that was to be released at the stroke of midnight.
A guy in a Death Eater mask was staring me down, as if he intended to put the Imperius curse on me so I would give him the book early. But, not wanting to be sued by the billionaire J.K. Rowling for accidentally giving away the last book in the Potter series thirty seconds earlier than the rest of the world, I stood my ground and instead, resorted to fumbling with my pink, lightning-bolt-design tie. And then it came down to it. TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! (Wow, these people sure know how to count backwards!) SIX! FIVE! FOUR! (The guy who was the first in line, customer number one, the one who was going to buy the very first copy of book seven, was shaking his hands in excitement and grinning like a bobcat preparing to pounce on an unsuspecting victim) THREE! TWO! ONE!
Chaos ensued.
My ears were ringing as the mob of about a a thousand people cheered, whistled, yelled and shrieked when the clock indicated the midnight hour had finally arrived.
“Oh my God!” Customer number one exclaimed as he flew to my register, throwing down his twenty-three dollars on the counter, his eyes gleaming manically.
I took out the book and set it down on the counter. Everybody screamed. “Oh my God! It’s really here!” Customer number one screeched. “Whooooooooo!” He raised his arms and faced the crowd, Rocky-style, as if he had just won a million dollars.
“How are you?” I asked him stupidly, as I rang up the purchase.
“Omigod! OH! MY! GOD!”
“Oookay…” I said to myself. “What’s your name?”
“Bryce!” Customer number one yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Okay, Bryce, you’re gonna be the very first person I sell Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to.” I said, calmly trying to sort out his change from the register.
The guy was turning twelve shades of purple as he stared at the book in my hands. And then I finished the transaction, dropped the book into his waiting hands, and then winced as he whipped around and yelled, “YEAH!” to the crowd.
It was then that I knew…Jesus this is going to be a long night.
In short, Harry Potter night was one of the most eventful nights I’ve had since I got here. I got there at a quarter to nine, fifteen minutes before my scheduled shift. I had wasted about two hours getting ready. I didn’t even have a proper costume. I just came in a shirt, tie and pants, whereas all the other Muggles came in with costumes. There were kids in Gryffindor Quidditch uniforms, teenage girls sporting Gryffindor ties and plaid skirts…
It was about ten o’clock when a guy came up to me just as I was slumped over the counter. “Hi.” He said with a half-smile that I was instantly suspicious with. “Could I by some miracle get the last Harry Potter book right now? I’ll pay you 40 bucks to get it!” He said.
I laughed. This guy was nuts. “No,” I said. “We’re not allowed to give it out before midnight. And even then, you have to wait in line like everyone else.”
The guy made a face. “Oh come on. Please. You’re going to be my savior. Do this for me, please.”
I couldn’t believe this guy. He was cute, but I wasn’t going to give him the Harry Potter book before the rest of the world got theirs. “Sorry, man, I can’t help you. If I sold you the book, I’d get fired. And I don’t want to get fired for giving in to a complete stranger who wants to give me forty bucks.”
The guy sighed and then snapped back into persistent mode. “Oh come on. Okay, how about this;” He paused for dramatic effect. “I will marry you if you give me the book.”
Unbelievable! The guy was actually proposing marriage to me, a complete stranger, all for a Harry Potter book. “I’m too young to get married.”
The guy was starting to shake his head, the look on his face was a mixture of defeat and incredulity.
To make a really long evening short, we were at the store until 2 AM, selling the Potter books. I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open. But then before I left I remembered that I was going to get my copy as well, so I eagerly paid for my deluxe edition and hurried home. I finished my book on no sleep at all before going back to work today at three o’clock. I was dead tired, but happy.
The end is finally here. It’s been 8 years since I first picked up book one. After reading the last book, it feels like I’m burying an old friend. But like all literary heroes, Harry Potter lives on even after the story comes to an end. I guess, so long, Harry Potter, and thanks for all the memories.
I’m just not as cynical as I used to be. Tonight, as I was watching TV, I saw that A Walk to Remember was on. If this were me a year ago, I would have switched channels immediately, maybe even threw up in my mouth for a second or two at the sight of a Nicholas Sparks-based film on TV. But I actually sat through this one. I finished the whole movie, felt really sad for Mandy Moore for a little bit, and then realized that romantic comedies, romantic dramas, they’re not all rubbish. The Notebooks and When Harry Met Sallys of the world exist for the sole reason of creating the illusion that love is, well, basically a figment of the imagination. Okay, that sounds like a cynic speaking, but think about it. Where would we be without Tom Cruise ever uttering the immortal words, “You complete me”? The world would be a complete disaster had Julia Roberts and Richard Gere not ended up together in Pretty Woman. We would all be cynics if it weren’t for the Meg Ryans and the Tom Hankses of our world. We need these sappy movies to give us hope that however much we act like blathering idiots, there’s always a possibility that we might get our very own real life scene off of Pride and Prejudice. And isn’t ignorance such bliss?
