The Video Game Hangover

Yesterday morning, my dentist’s office called to remind me that I had an appointment coming up. They called at 10:46 a.m. I answered with “unnnggg hello,” and then proceeded to have the worst conversation ever with the dentist’s office secretary, because I was so semiconscious upon answering that I was barely able to form comprehensible words, much less sentences. Confession: I was sleeping through a hangover. A video game hangover. It’s like the movie The Hangover, except instead of roofies and alcohol, there were video games, and instead of having crazy adventures, I slept through breakfast.

The night before, I had invited Tara and Allison over to play Super Mario on the old SNES I’d dug out of my basement. Allison declined; Tara said, “Sure, I’ll play for a while.” Well, Super Mario got demoralizing (I don’t want to talk about it), so I brought out Goof Troop. Goof Troop is this game I played a long time ago. All the neighbor kids would gather at our house and we’d play it for hours. We then sold it, along with the SNES, because we were stupid. When I was fifteen, I decided I wanted to play it again, and subsequently spent like two years searching for it on eBay, because I couldn’t remember what it was called, and also nobody was selling it.

Anyway, now I’m twenty and still playing it, and Tara and I played it for nearly three hours. It got to the point where Tara was periodically whisper-shouting “I AM IN HELL,” and I was half-sobbing, “We made it this far… we made it this far…” One level stumped us beyond all others, and we spent about half an hour just staring at the screen in slack-jawed confusion. When we made it to the final boss, it was nerve-wracking. We were tired. Our reflexes weren’t what they used to be. I died (not even dramatically, which I could accept, but as a result of my own idiocy, which just earned me a face palm), and Tara was left to fight alone. She also died, after a valiant effort, and we both just sat there frozen.

Then Tara said in an appropriately somber tone, “I’m gonna go home,” and I said, “Yeah,” and we haven’t spoken since. I think we’re still coping.