Video Games in Real Life: I’m a terrible person
Allow me to paint you a picture with words:
It’s morning, bright and sunny. I’m standing at the sink in my kitchen washing dishes. It’s a kitchen of the usual sort – a stove, small table, some cabinets, and drawers. The refrigerator is a foot away from where I stand. My wife comes into the kitchen wearing a work appropriate skirt that hugs her hips in all the right ways. She searches the fridge for some condiments to pack in her lunch box. At that exact moment I am holding a long handled, bamboo spoon. Her shapely booty dances just out of reach as she begins to ask me questions:
“Have you seen the vinaigrette I just bought? Should I use cheese on my salad? Andrew, are you listening?”
Time stretches on. I see text appearing as though I’m in a point-and-click adventure game: Inspect, Talk, Use Item.
Inspect? Yup, that’s a mighty fine hiney. Talk? I didn’t inspect the fridge before I started the dishes so I don’t have the knowledge to answer her question. Use item? I search my inventory. I have a long handled, bamboo spoon – it’s kind of damp.
Like the wax doll and horseshoe used to open a hatch in Silent Hill 2, I wonder in what way this item might work in my current situation.
In a video game your inventory is usually loaded with odd trinkets that you scavenged. In reality, I had only the spoon and no pop-up message to tell me, “you can’t use this here.” The QTE occurred, time was running out, I smashed spacebar.
Whack! Right on the ass. Achievement Unlocked: Now That’s Spooning.
I’m not condoning the objectification of your significant other. My relationship with the most beautiful and forgiving, wonderful mother of my child has always had some playful flirtation and goosing back and forth. Not every relationship does. The moral here is that I play too many video games and it is damaging my perception of reality.