Kids, Gotta Find ’Em All

I’m working at my hardware store in the mid-2000s. A customer comes running up to me, looking frantic.

Customer: “Help! I can’t find my son!”

We have a protocol for this (code yellow) where everyone drops what they’re doing and joins the search.

 After five minutes and every department radioing in, we still haven’t found the boy.

Customer: “Oh no! He’s been kidnapped, hasn’t he!”

Manager: “Ma’am, can I confirm, he’s five years old?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Manager: “Forgive me for asking, but does he like Pokémon?”

Customer: “Well, of course! What little boy doesn’t these days?”

Manager: “Everyone here will keep looking, but can you follow me real quick? I have a hunch.”

Confused but complying, the mother follows the manager outside and points to the giant Toys R Us next door. They have a huge Pokémon display near the entrance. Admiring it is a little boy.”

Customer: “Oh my god! That’s him!”

She sprints the forty or so feet to the store’s entrance, grabs her boy, and starts the usual dance between relief and scolding that parents experience in such moments.

Manager: *To me.* “That god d*** display. That’s the second time that’s happened this week.”

We assigned a door greeter to the store for the remainder of the time that huge display was up next door. They were officially door greeters, but in reality, they were there to stop any children from leaving the store by themselves.