Odd Connections

Disoriented, I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts before returning my attention to my surroundings. I immediately regretted this as a simultaneous assault upon my sight and hearing began; my vision swam with neon signs and screens flashing wildly while incessant beeps, wordless shouts, and unpleasant tinny music blasted my eardrums relentlessly. As I fought the urge to cringe away, the darkness began to recede and the outlines of hulking shapes revealed themselves to be what I had secretly known and dreaded... gaming machines.

They stretched as far as the eye could see. With titles such as Dance Dance Revolution, Taico Drummer, Guitar Freak, Mario Kart x 4, and Pop’n Music, the interactive potential was endless. And, to make full the joy and despair rending my heart, there were rows upon rows of glistening UFO catchers chock full of treasures near and dear to a gamer’s heart, such as life-sized Goomba dolls and the all-coveted FFXII Potions.

There was nothing I could do. The choice had been made long prior to my arrival, and whether I willed it or no, there would be no deviation from the script. With great care and a deliberateness found in some ancient craft handed down from generation to generation, my body fell into the groove it had once trodden years past.

Time blurred into nothing. All I was aware of was the chime of coin hitting coin within the heart of my captors, over and over again. Heart racing at my recklessness, mind racing with the amount of money being blown through heedlessly, conscience heavy with guilt at this blatant disregard for the budget strictly adhered to until this ill-fated spree, it occurred to me that I knew exactly what I was doing, and it didn’t change a thing. Just as the pit in my stomach dropped to an all-time low...

I woke up.

Thank goodness I woke up.

And with clenched fists, I muttered to myself, "I really hate that Laundromat".