I have not watched television for a long time. For about five years I have only listened to it passively, with half an ear, when I am at my parents’ place or in my grandmother’s room. In my own room the television works as a big monitor, in case I want to watch football or a film streamed from my computer. I even thought about selling it, but then remembered that my children might want to watch something when I have them, or that I might meet a girl who cares about such a thing.
I remember once watching a video on YouTube where crowds of people gathered outside supermarkets ahead of some discount or promotion. They crushed each other to get a television or another household appliance at a discount or completely free. One Swedish company created the same frenzy at supermarket doors by giving away the first ten items for free. In such crushes for a bargain people often got hurt. Greed drives people.
When I watched videos like that I swore to myself I would never be part of such a herd. And certainly never step over my own humanity. But years passed and something similar happened to me. I hope this story amuses you and also teaches something.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8l3QV3a6o0
It started when on 23 April 2015 my father turned fifty-two. Naturally we were thinking about what to give the birthday man. And then my mother came across a promotional leaflet from an electronics supermarket in Italy, which said that if you bought a television for 650 euros on 25 April, the shop would give you another 650 euros to spend on anything else in the same supermarket after 3 March. So, roughly speaking, you get a fifty-inch smart TV for free if you spend 650 euros in the shop.
My mother suggested chipping in. The idea seemed interesting and sensible to me. With the other 650 euros we planned to buy a washing machine (ours had broken down three days earlier) and a new phone for my father, because he had smashed his and was suffering. A couple of euros would be left for something for the house.
But the day before the trip, checking the details of the promotion, I found out there were only 600 such televisions. And not 600 per shop but 600 for the whole of Italy. Then I called the supermarket directly and learned that the one near us had been allocated just five. Naturally I was sharply against the whole idea. I remembered the crushes I had seen on YouTube. And honestly, I did not want to take part in anything like that. But after long persuasion from my sister and my mother I agreed to go there with my sister. Apparently Italians have no money right now, nobody will buy such a thing, and in general I understand nothing. So off we went.
I turned out to be right. Already on the approach to the entrance we saw a crowd of about a hundred people. Obviously getting the television in those conditions was almost impossible. My sister, however, was full of determination.
We slowly squeezed through to the first gates, and when they opened I ran to the entrance and ended up in the second row. Shouting and name-calling started; my height of 1.97 and weight of 140 kilos gave me an advantage. People were arguing among themselves. Meanwhile I pulled my sister by the hand into the second row next to me. Nine o’clock came and the shop manager did not want to open, because he could see the crowd would rush in and there was no telling how it might end. The police arrived.
The guys who had waited outside all night, slept in sleeping bags, froze and suffered the most, handed the manager a list of names, hoping he would give them the right to buy. But the crowd did not agree. Firstly because the rules of the promotion said the first five people to bring a television to the till would buy it. And secondly because those guys had already been buying promotional goods all the previous week: they simply wanted to make money, not to buy something they needed for their home.
You could only buy the television with a slip of paper issued by the manager himself.
After more arguing I put my sister in front of me and said that if she wanted to, let her try, but I was not going to take part in this, it was stupid and herd-like. Especially as a couple of people had already accused me of being the biggest and cleverest, of shoving everyone aside to get closer. I do not like arguing with a crowd, it is pointless. And behaving like an animal even less so.
But my sister really wanted to give our father a present. He certainly deserved it. So she asked me, from the third row, to hold an Albanian man by his back pocket, since he was pushing hard too, and to shove her forward when the gates opened. Throw my sister? Seriously? A new sport: “sister throwing into a crowd”. In front of my sister stood a policeman…
When the gates opened I held the Albanian, tore his pocket, and pushed my sister straight into the policeman. She burst into theatrical tears and, as the manager was handing out the last slip, snatched it with a cry of “I AM FIRST!”. Yes, yes, yes, I gave in. We got the TV. It was mad.
After that I calmly walked in with the people who had stood behind and not taken part in the crush. I did not expect such combat and self-sacrifice from my quiet sister. It was epic! She is crying, she has been hit in the stomach, a cop is holding and calming her. I walk in, stand there and see her holding that slip and sobbing. And then one of the guys who had waited all night in sleeping bags loses his nerve and a fight starts with the shop manager for not giving them the right to buy. Shelves go down, appliances break, and in the middle of all that I stand hugging my sister, pressing her to me, watching the show. The culprit was arrested and taken away. We caught our breath, took the television, which barely fitted into our little Toyota Yaris. And went home.
Was it worth it? Or not? Adrenaline, a scuffle and, of course, advertising for the shopping centre. All for money. Like animals. I will never do that again. It is not for me.
And here is the TV…
