IN some of this week’s more quirky news, American supermarket chain Costco — and the second-largest retail chain in the world — opened its first-ever Chinese mainland store in Shanghai’s out-of-the-way Minhang District on Tuesday, leading to a sea of crazed shoppers swarming the store and having it shut down out of safety concerns.

Maniacal crowds

In scenes reminiscent of the first McDonald’s openings across China in the late 1980s, shoppers swarmed into the store like rabid zombies out for fresh meat, grabbing everything they could get their hands on. You’d think they’d won one of those free shopping sprees where the lucky few can keep everything you grab and shove in a trolley in 60 seconds.

One security guard said the scene when the doors finally opened on Tuesday morning was the stuff of nightmares. “My colleagues and I were pushed down to the ground by the crowds,” he recalled. Pictures show crazed aunties and uncles clawing at the front door as if looking for blood.

In one video that was shared internationally at the opening, two local women can be seen fighting over a piece of raw pork which, in the end, is torn into two pieces. “Wild hyenas in the Serengeti are no match for those voracious women,” someone commented online. I had to laugh.

Those who managed to snatch items from the shelves then had the honor of lining for up to three hours at the checkouts just to hand over their hard-earned cash.

And that’s just the ones who got in the door. In the days following opening, customers were still willing to line for more than two hours outside the store, in the sweltering end-of-summer heat, just for the privilege of buying products which, despite being sold in a novel new store from the land of the Big Mac, are mostly produced in China anyway.

Some were pleased with their purchases, despite the sweat and tears shed. Others, though, saw through it all.

“I feel duped,” a customer who had queued for hours exclaimed. “I didn’t see anything any cheaper than other supermarkets — I’m going to cancel my membership.”

Queuing as a pastime

China is no stranger to this type of fervor surrounding new store openings or popular new items hitting shelves. Locals are often willing to line for hours upon hours just to try a new type of tea or savor the flavor of a new mooncake recipe. Others will pay strangers a premium to line up on their behalf and bring them their prized goods, like when famous Shanghai candy brand White Rabbit released limited edition merchandise earlier this year.

A big part of it is for bragging rights on social media — lining for hours, coupled with the scarcity of whatever hot new product, makes that photo and post on WeChat Moments all the more valuable. Friends and acquaintances will then praise the poster with “likes” and comments as if they’ve just come back from exploring Antarctica for three months, and they’ll enjoy the victor regaling lesser mortals with the hardships and suffering endured, and the sweet victory that followed.

For me, lining up is one of my most loathed experiences, and I’m also averse to trends and taking part in anything considered “cool.” If everyone is talking about a tasty new tea, I’ll find joy in being that grinch who professes to having never tried it and having absolutely no interest whatsoever.

I will, of course, have a sneak taste when things die down and when getting my hands on said product is no longer cool or worth fighting for, but I’ll never admit that publicly.

As for Costco, though, there’s no way — Minhang is just a Metro stop too far.