The 22-foot high boot which sits outside the L.L. Bean flagship store in Freeport, Maine?seen by the 3.5 million people a year who visit the store?is an interesting creation to most, but a fascinating temptation to an inebriated person.
"How much would you, all of you, give me to try to climb up in there?" my drunken friend askes me, his words slurred.
"Twenty pesos," one of my sober friends yells out, her sardonic tone unmistakable.
"Twenty pesos?! I'll be rich!" he hollers with unabashed ebullience, having missed the sarcasm. "You got a deal, amiga."
With laser-like focus (quite surprising given the number of beers put away), he steps toward the gigantic boot but does not make it to its base, falling instead in a large snow bank. We take some pictures with our friend, covered in snow, and head for the car.
"Good one, Mister Budweiser," I say, coining a new moniker (albeit a decidedly weak one) for my buddy.
It is Sunday. Four friends and I have taken an early morning (2:00 a.m.) road trip to the most famous 24 hour store in Maine: L.L. Bean.
In 1912, a man from Freeport named Leon Leonwood Bean invented and sold a "Maine Hunting Shoe." Of the first 100 pairs sold, 90 were returned as faulty. This spurred two actions on Bean's part?he fixed the boots and instituted his famous guarantee of complete satisfaction that still exists today. Buy any product from L.L. Bean and if it is not a quality piece of merchandise or if it is inadequate in any way, you can return it for a replacement or a refund. Forever. There are no limitations on returns.
According to L.L Bean's web site, early on, Mr. Bean expanded his product line from boots to all kinds of items for the outdoor enthusiast. The company now sells everything from fishing rods to footwear, from bows for hunters to bedspreads for homemakers. And it is all available at its Freeport store open every minute of the year, no exceptions. As if to prove that the store will really never close, there are no locks on the doors.
Stepping into the flagship store for the first time can be daunting. Although its voluminous interior causes any first time visitor to pause, helpful employees and clear signage can quickly point the consumer in the right direction. Still, wandering the store aimlessly has a certain allure of its own if you are not in a hurry. There is a small bookstore and a café in the upper level.
Besides its flagship store, L.L. Bean has an outlet store and a hunting/fishing store in Freeport.
An explosion of brand-name stores has radiated out from L.L Bean, Freeport's commercial ground zero. Franchises of Banana Republic, Burberry, Dansk, Gap, J. Crew, Jockey, the North Face, Patagonia, and many other big-name brand stores are located within Freeport's town limits.
At times extremely crowded, the three-level flagship L.L. Bean store in the center of town has a calm, almost subdued, atmosphere in the early morning. A few shoppers, either savvy or sleep-deprived, peruse items here and there.
A small Asian woman looks at the price of a red rain jacket and shakes her head in dismay. "Gore-Tex is so expensive," she says to no one in particular.
"Let's go see the fishpond!" Mr. Bud says to no one in particular.
A broad-shouldered man wearing a fleece vest paces back and forth in the Home and Outdoor Living section. An imposing figure at about 6'4", he seems edgy, his eyes darting from the rugs to the Adirondack chairs to the all-weather garden benches. Suddenly he stops, mumbles a few words into his sleeve, and begins to pace again. The man is either crazy or a security guard. Or maybe both.
"Let's go see the fishies!" Mr. Bud exclaims.
A female employee, who is, undoubtedly, a member of the AARP, moves gingerly from one row of shirts to another. Her left hand, wrinkled with age, squeezes the bridge of her nose. She looks tired.
"Excuse me, might you be able to open the café for us please," one of my friends asks delicately, referring to the small coffee shop on the top floor.
"No, I'm very sorry, I can't," the older woman responds, sounding truly apologetic. "There is a Denny's that's open in Brunswick though."
"That one closed a year ago," another employee cuts in, "but the one in Portland is still open?open all the time." A beat. "Good coffee there," she offers.
We get into a conversation with some of the staff at the store. They are all quite friendly.
"Good luck finding some food," one says, as our party of five heads for the door. To Mr. Bud's great excitement, we finally visit the fishpond before heading out to the large boot. He watches the giant goldfish in awe and wonders if they sleep.
About ten days after the early morning road trip, there is a small gathering. Mr. Budweiser asks the young woman, who had made a bet with him more than a week earlier, for a beer.
"Can you pass me an MGD?" he asks.
"Here you go: one ice cold Miller Genuine Draft."
"But where are my pesos?" he inquires jokingly. "I believe you owe me twenty," he giggles, unable to control his laughter. We all join in.
L.L.Bean is about twenty minutes away from Brunswick by car. The flagship store, along with the outlet and the hunting/fishing store, is off Exit 22 on I-295.