Questing for Oblivion

I'd like to say that I just walked into Wal-Mart, picked up an Xbox 360 and a copy of Oblivion, and was home to play by 3 PM the other day, but in reality, it was much more difficult. Purchasing Oblivion and the necessary hardware was actually an eleven-day quest fraught with danger and frustration, which in all actuality, is probably making the game that much sweeter. Here is the rough order of events.

Day 1: I stopped by Wal-Mart, to conduct a visual inspection as to the availablity of an Xbox 360 and Oblivion. Negative. I wanted to ask when a shipment was coming in, but the Wal-Mart Electronics Monkey was engrossed in discussing World of Warcraft strategy with some professional looking man in his mid-thirties. Nothing, absolutely NOTHING, makes me happier than hearing a sentence like, "I found the Helm of Varedoth in the Western Plaguelands, which gave my orc shaman +5 strength" in a public setting. Especially when uttered by a non-traditional gamer, without any sense of embarassment. I repeat, nothing, except for maybe watching these people.

Day 3: Still nothing at Wal-Mart, so on the way back from landscaping, I stopped by Play N Trade, where I found both Xbox 360's aplenty, and a few copies of Oblivion. Jackpot. I held off on purchasing, since I was running dangerously low on coin, and I refuse to purchase things on my credit card without having the cash to back it. I contemplated breaking into some houses here on the Outer Banks to raise some cash, but I'm still a novice in sneak and I couldn't cast a chameleon spell past 25%. So, I went and practiced to get ready for the weekend's Pro-Assistant Championship.

Day5-7: Pro-Assistant Championship down in Myrtle Beach. I ended up winning about half of my future planned Xbox expenditures, and I was visited by a member of the Dark Brotherhood during the night. I was passed out from the vodka and cranberry, but I saw his business card when I got up in the morning.

Oddly enough, that's my hotel in the background.

Day 9: I cashed checks from work and landscaping, and stopped by Play and Trade. Unfortunately, Oblivion is in stock, but 360's are sold out. I reserve a 360 (estimate arrival date tomorrow), but now instead of playing Oblivion the rest of the day, I cry into my pillow.

Day 10: I spend the longest seven hours at work in the morning, and rush back to Play and Trade as soon as I get off. Still no 360's in stock.. I swing by K-Mart on the way back to my house, and purchase the last Xbox 360 they had. Oblivion was sold out, but I picked up some Trident Tropical Twist gum. Not only is it delicious, but I believe the packaging when it says it is good for my teeth.
I pick up my buddy who was staying at the house for the weekend, and we run back to Play and Trade to pick up a copy of Oblivion. He, unfortunately, had fallen victim to the epidemic of conjunctivitis that is decimating the Virginia/North Carolina area, most likely as a result of some minor offense against God. (See, I told you this adventure was full of danger.) Anyway, along with picking him up, I also grabbed a can of Lysol disinfectant spray, which I discharged in his direction along with a string of profanity commenting on his general hygene every few minutes. We walked into Play and Trade reeking of lemony, sterile freshness, only to find that along with the Xbox 360's, Oblivion is now also sold out. I took my name of the Xbox 360 reservation list while I was there, reserved a copy of Oblivion, and then made a vow never to purchase anything in person when it can be obtained through the internet. A vow which to this day is still unbroken.

I should have quietly admitted defeat, but instead I drove to three seperate video rental joints, where I was finally informed (at the third one) that there is no place on the Outer Banks that rents Xbox 360 games. The only highlight was that at each place (and the rest of the weekend at various fast food establishments) I had a conversation exactly like this:

Me: Do you have Oblivion for Xbox 360? and don't worry about him, his dog just died.
Clerk: Awwww, I'm so sorry.
CB (my friend): My dog didn't die, I'm not crying, I have pinkeye!

So, I drove back to Play and Trade, and told the kid working there that I wanted to be moved to the top of the waiting list for Oblivion, and that he could name his price for this favor. He declined, but promised to bring in his personal copy and sell it to me the next morning, which he did. I then played it twelve consecutive hours, went to sleep, got up and played for five hours, and now I'm at work, counting down the hours until I can go back and resume playing. It's times like these I'm glad that I'm not involved in any interpersonal relationships within a hundred miles of where I live.