...and you can't ask that friend because you two don't talk because of the game
Not knowing which N64 game is which
Now, let's talk this out, Nintendo. All N64 cartridges have a label on the front; great. But here's the thing: When people put your games on their shelf, they simply do not have the space to make them all face outwards. That means that, like a deck of cards, they'll need to shuffle through them one by one if they ever want to find the one they're looking for (provided it's not one of those spiffy colored cartridges). A mere inch of extra sticker reaching the top ridge of the cart could've solved this atrocious design entirely. Just saying.
You have to download an update whenever you boot up a console
And then when you slide in that new and shiny game it has to be installed on the console for the next hour. This of course infuriates the gamer, who just wanted to play their new game after a long day of work or school. If we wanted to download updates we would have gotten a PC. And what happened to the good old days of just throwing in a cartridge and being good to go? Times have changed.
Your parents pawned off your favorite game
To your old-fashioned parents--bless their hearts--all game cartridges and discs look pretty much the same. So how could they have known that you cherished your mint-condition copy of Chrono Trigger above all else in this world? But that doesn't make it any easier to hold back fits of rage, knowing that some dillweed paid $5 for your most prized possession at a family garage sale. Your parents may have brought you into this world, but it's taking every fiber of self-restraint in your body not to take them out of it this instant.
Getting the game store neck cricks
Browsing is one of the best parts about mulling through a retail store, offering the instant gratification of discovering the unfamiliar in one moment and buying it the next. Only problem is, some idiot decided that all game spines need labels to read perpendicular to the ground. That means you'll be craning your neck for tens of minutes at a time, struggling to read the small-print game titles while shrugging off the dull, numbing pain slowly building up in your vertebrae. If a doctor diagnoses you with chronic joint pain years later, you'll know exactly what caused it.
Worrying when youll be too old for your favorite hobby
You walk into GameStop and are surrounded by youngins with their parents, after which you find youve just had an in-depth conversation about the new AC with someone ten years younger than you. Its then you begin to wonder, will you ever outgrow video games? Surely not...you hope.
Being a kid with a tiny allowance trying to afford a $60 game
You save for months and still have to volunteer to cut the lawn for the next year in order to have enough funds to buy a single new game. You also were probably an excellent student growing up for the sole purpose of getting that sweet cash at the end of the year to fuel your gaming needs.
Your family walks in at the EXACT bloodiest part of the game and thinks youre a murderer
And then you try to convince them that it was a crucial part of the story and theyre just not giving it a chance. Or maybe that they might be calling the kettle black because just last night, you all watched Kill Bill together? But no, video games are irredeemable.
...or they walk in at the close-up boob shot and think youre a pervert
And then once again you try to convince them that it was a crucial part of the story and theyre just not giving it a chance. Or maybe that, yet again, they might be calling the kettle black because just last night you all watched Titanic together? But no, forever more video games are irredeemable.
Conversations instantly die when you start talking about video games
This is part of a larger issue of just generally social awkwardness as a gamer. What we like and what we talk about is so specific that its hard to maintain conversation with anybody whos not a gamer themselves. So there we are, at this rad and awesome college party where the music is blasting and the night is perfect...and we sit swaying in a corner, clutching our drink like a lifeline as we maintain terrible small talk with a disinterested member of the opposite sex. Wow, this is really sad.
