I ran into a situation today that I've encountered a few times before, and it brought up an important question: does being a toy collector bring a sense of duty along with it, or is silence always the best policy? Curious as to what the heck I'm talking about? Then read on for an interesting story and an intriguing dilemma in this edition of:
I waste little time when heading towards the toy aisle of my local Wal-Mart. I keep my eyes on the ground, try to avoid any needless chatter, and I sure don't do my other shopping first. Once the new-plastic smell fills my lungs in my home away from home, I shuffle through all the pegs, confirming that there's no hidden DC Universe Classics figure or surprise release, and then I'm left without any motivation. Another useless trip filled with disappointment. I always start to search for some positive way to salvage my time and gas money spent. Today, I found that opportunity.
That opportunity rested on the enormous shoulders of an immensely overweight woman sprawled across the floor of the toy aisle. As the cold tile pressed against her jiggly skin, she sighed in frustration, turned to her older friend, and proclaimed that they didn't have a single Bumblebee Transformers toy in all of Wal-Mart. I noticed she was digging through the Voyager class Wal-Mart exclusive figures on the bottom shelf, going through Dirge after Dirge. I knew she was getting nowhere at an amazing speed, but she seemed pretty content to keep pulling figures onto the floor. I figured this was my time to act, my time to be a hero, my time to offer a hand to those in need. So I pulled a Deluxe class Bumblebee off the shelf, asked if it was what she was looking for, and got a questioning glare in return.
"I need a Bumblebee, from the new movie, and it has to transform. That one's a robot" I tried to explain that it was currently a robot, but in fact it did transform, and was the only Bumblebee figure currently at that Wal-Mart that did actually transform. She grabbed one of the large, kid-targeted non transforming Bumblebees (I don't know what they're called, but you know the ones (they talk and such)), lumbered into an upright position, and tossed it into her cart. I suggested once more that she might be looking for this particular deluxe class toy in my hands. Mind you, I was always polite, sincerely. I received a final hateful glance, along with disheveled mumbling as they stomped away, and even a loatheful look back at that disrespectful young man, me.
Now, I know I'm not the foremost expert on action figures, and certainly not a leading thinker in regards to Transformers, but I do know what's what, and the toys that are currently sitting in my regular aisles. So I ask, was it wrong of me to offer my help? Was I a jerk for trying to guide people to their desired location using my knowledge on the matter? Is it condescending to others for me to claim expertise on the matter?
Let me turn the question to you? Do you ever try to help the confused faces in your local aisles? Are people receptive when you do? Or do you just mind your own business, hoping that parents and grandmothers luck into the right purchase, thus saving Tommy's Christmas wishes. Maybe you take things into your own hands to guarantee Tommy will be a happy young fellow.
The most interesting part of this story revealed itself when I returned to the toy section for one last once-over. The two women had returned, and as I peeked into their cart, what did I see but the deluxe class Bumblebee of my recommendation.
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