Video Games Hate Me

Perhaps you think I’m paranoid to think inanimate objects are conspiring against me. Continue reading for years of accumulated evidence.

As a kid, my sisters and I never had Nintendo, Sega, Playstation, etc. I used to want one. Not because I ever found the idea of video games remotely attractive, just because everyone else had AT LEAST a game boy.   I mean, we didn’t even have cable until I was 14. I don’t want my classmates thinking I’m AMISH.

Anyway, I gained much needed gaming experience from my neighbor, the typical boy who played video games at least 4 hours per day. And by “much needed experience” I mean he let either my twin sister or me take a turn every half hour or so. It was usually her. Watching him play Donkey Kong for hours on end? Good use of my time.

When I did manage to obtain a controller, it didn’t take anyone long to realize that I was as a blind person playing darts. Who also happens to be handless.

Over the years, my favorite game was Mario Kart on N64. Suddenly, everybody wanted to race me! Turns galore! (In hindsight, I was most likely an ego-boost.)

I can say with 85 percent certainty that I never won a Mario Kart race. I always ended up a.) in the water or b.) driving the WRONG WAY. Which is also like saying “Yoshi would be making more progress if your controller sat untouched on the carpet.”

This Christmas though, I decided to turn over a new leaf when my family got the Wii Fit. I'm a Division 1 athlete, it can't be that bad. I thought as I stepped on the platform to take a few balance tests.

Little did I know that the platform is not only a hidden scale, but also has the ability to obliterate any girls' self-esteem with a single number: your "Wii Fit Age." And alas, I am not 1 or 2 years over my real age (a mere 22), but, according to the artificial intelligence of our Christmas gift, I am an entire decade older. Yes, this inanimate, over-priced gaming console thinks that my estimated age is 32 years old. What does that even mean?!

Although it was hard to recover from that blow, I promptly descended the almighty platform, and headed straight to the kitchen where - destiny would have it - there were 2 homemade pies:

Conclusion: Sometimes pie is the only answer. 

I think I was 40 by the time I was done.