A significant threshold is crossed when one purchases a $300 set of toy drums.
The boundary itself is a dark, unmentionable place. One does not simply walk into GameStop and purchase $300 toy drums. It is an act accomplished in privacy, while everyone and everything is asleep, including your common sense.
Once beyond the bound, you find yourself in another realm of video game fandom, granted access to an exclusive clubhouse reserved only for the truly pathetic.
Inside the lodge, rejected gaming paraphernalia litters nearly every inch of available space. The floor is carpeted in worn-out DDR pads. The walls are covered in mounted Halo helmets. Dusty driving controllers line the banisters, the expensive steering wheels re-purposed as coat hangers.
The owners of the junk mill about, quietly commiserating. Over at the bar is the sap who bought the Steel Battalion controller, drowning his sorrows. Next to him is a grown woman, wiping at tears with a Power Glove'd hand. A man wearing a Kingdom Hearts pre-order t-shirt stokes a raging fireplace, throwing on a few Draken 2 deluxe art books for fuel.
In the corner, a small boy is playing a sad, silent tune with a broken pair of Samba maracas. Regret hangs in the air like the foul stench of Earthbound strategy guide scratch-n-sniffs. The denizens speak in dazed whispers, like... Read more