Ever since I was old enough to drive and earn my own money, I've been preordering Nintendo's latest game consoles. The Nintendo 64, GameCube, Wii, Wii U, and Switch all wasted no time between their commercial launch and their delivery into my hands, thanks to retail stores like GameStop, Toys R Us, and even KB Toy Works. I intended the Switch 2 to be no exception.

But now I'm a digital nomad, which makes local retailers less reliable. When Switch 2 preorders opened last Thursday, April 24, I was in Denver, Colorado. When the console releases on Thursday, June 5, I'll be in Prague, Czech Republic. There'd be no way for me to collect it and shoot an unboxing video on release day.

But preordering In Prague wasn't a viable option, either: with current exchange rates, the console without Mario Kart World Tour is US$570. And I'd still need to check luggage (yet another fee) to get the console and its original packaging back to the States.

Seemingly, the only option remaining was to order it online and have it shipped to Massachusetts, where I'd collect it upon my return from Prague on June 26. That was my first option — but it proved to not be the best one.

Website woes

I'd already decided not to patronize Amazon, Target, or Walmart. After checking the Goods Unite Us app for GameStop and Best Buy, I decided my preference was for the former.

But out of curiosity, I stayed up until 10 PM MDT last Wednesday, when Best Buy was supposed to begin accepting preorders, just to see if I'd have any luck. Online orders didn't actually open until 10:30 PM, at which point I was placed into a virtual queue. A half-hour later, I hadn't made any apparent progress through the line, so I gave up and went to bed.

At 9 AM the next morning, I started refreshing GameStop's site, hoping to place a preorder. But the site continuously crashed with a variety of HTTP errors: 502, 503, and 521. On the rare occasions the page did load, the Switch 2 was displayed alongside a gray "CURRENTLY AVAILABLE" button.

But on one load, that button was red! I clicked it — and it faded. Clicked it again, and it faded some more. Clicked it a third time — and I was redirected to my cart, complete with a Switch 2 in it!

But when I tried to check out, the site crashed again. When my cart finally came back up, it still showed the Switch 2 — but now listed as "Out of Stock". And the Apple Pay button, though active, would not successfully accept my payment.

After nearly an hour of futile efforts, and with all domestic online stores now sold out, I closed my laptop.

It was time to revert to a time-honored tradition.

GameStop

I drove 12 minutes south to my nearest GameStop, arriving there at 11 AM, an hour before they opened. I was dismayed but unsurprised to see a lengthy line had already formed.

As I made my way to the back, two gregarious masked adults approached me, asking "Hi! Here for the Switch 2?" I confirmed I was and asked what my odds were. "Oh, they're great! Do you want the console with or without Mario Kart?" Just the console, please. "Awesome! This store will have 44 Kart bundles and 20 of just the console. You're 26th in line, but only the second person to want just the console!" They wrote my number and console preference on a sticky note before clarifying, "We don't work here — we just want to help!"

Assured of my place in line, I jogged back to my car to get my camping chair, laptop, and water bottle. Thank goodness for a day and age when we can wait in line and be at work.

At one point, the store manager came out and distributed barcode stickers to everyone in line. Wondering how long I'd be waiting in line, I asked him if both registers would be open. "Yeah, but I'm the only one here," he admitted.

I was shocked. How could GameStop plan so poorly as to have only one employee working today? I later learned they hadn't, and that his co-worker had called in sick. I nonetheless volunteered: "I worked at a GameStop 24 years ago. Want me to sub in?" I knew accepting the offer would get him fired, but I empathized with the plight of the overworked retail employee.

Once the doors opened at noon, the line progressed slowly, at about 3–5 minutes per customer, with only three customers let into the store at a time. There wasn't too much camaraderie while we waited: although everyone was there for the same reason, we mostly kept to ourselves.

I finally got inside at 1:15 PM, the second person in a group of three. I watched the person ahead of me to know what questions the manager would ask. When it was my turn, I preempted the spiels: "Just the console, no warranty, $50 minimum deposit, and I have GameStop Pro and Apple Pay." (Though I was tempted to instead say, "Just this Funko Pop figure, please.")

After everyone else got their Switches preordered, they quietly left the store without a look back at the line they'd spent hours in. Not me: I stood outside, pumped my fists into the air, and cheered, expressing the enthusiasm we all must've been feeling about the first new Nintendo console in eight years.

And now, we wait

As for the geography of my preorder, a friend in Denver has offered to collect and ship the Switch to me — or to keep it, if I ended up getting one directly from the manufacturer.

In either case, I'll still need to wait until June 26 to actually get my hands on the Switch 2, which means no day one unboxing, like I did for the original Switch. In the end, it doesn't matter: one way or the other, I'm guaranteed a Switch 2 this summer.

GameStop wasn't the only line I stood in this week: just a few days earlier, I earned a $100 gift card for waiting at Cracker Barrel. While that was a unique, one-off event, waiting for a new Nintendo is something I've done before and hope to continue doing for generations to come.