As unlikely as it may seem, I scored an interview with my fifteen-year-old self. We find him at Round Table Pizza in 1983 playing a video game with a friend.
Hey! I’ve been playing that game (Mr. Do!) for twenty-five years and I still haven’t gotten past the eighth level.
Then you must be from the future because this game is only a about a year old.
I am.
Golly.
Who’s that next to you?
My friend Trent.
What’s up with his hair?
We were about to leave for a church dance and he got out some scissors and kind of hacked out random clumps of hair, ha!
I remember that. Nutty. What’s he doing? Why is he all frantic with the control stick?
He’s going for the diamond. If he gets it, (he wins a) free credit. Most video games don’t give free credits – just extra men…
Part of the appeal, I suppose?
That and much more…
Like?
It’s fast compared to other games: really frenzied and, um…
Frenetic?
Yeah, that. (Pauses) Of course, the real part of the appeal for me has nothing to do with the nature of the game itself…
Interesting. Can you elaborate?
It has helped me establish a connection with my friend and that’s the important part. It could have been Pong for all I care and if we were both here playing it I’d be just as happy.
Why’s that?
I’ve been feeling lonely lately, like I don’t fit in.
Because?
Dungeons and Dragons.
That’s a game for nerds!
I pretend to have that sentiment, but deep down inside I’m jealous of my friends (who play it), jealous of the great amount of imagination it takes to play a game like that and jealous of their passion for it. I wish I possessed those qualities, but my feeble brain won’t allow it.
You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.
I try not to be. And on a day like this, I’m not.
Why are there – gosh let me count – seventeen quarters lined up across the bottom of the screen?
That’s how you reserve a machine. We’ll be playing this all afternoon…
I know that. But if I remember correctly, I never had money at your age. Where’d that come from? And how can you afford all that pizza, for that matter?
I was in line outside that (California High School) farce of a cafeteria (a trailer) and Trent comes running up (and says), “I found twenty dollars! I found twenty dollars!”
Really? Like a twenty dollar bill blowing around the corridor along with a bunch of debris?
Mm, more like out of some schmuck’s wallet that had been turned in to the lunch lady as a lost item, set by the lunch lady to the side of her cash register, and then swiped by Trent.
He told you this?
Yep.
And you didn’t feel bad about it?
Nope.
Why am I hearing (Robert Plant’s) “Big Log” for, like, the seventh time in a row?
Trent likes to load the jukebox with a bunch of credits and then select only that song to play over and over.
It’s like torture.
At first, yes, but I must confess I’m beginning to like it, though it must be driving all the workers here at Round Table insane.
Oh that’s weird.
What?
Well the whole time we’ve been talking I’ve imagined you guys to be at the back of Elegant Pizza in between Bill’s Drugs and TG&Y – where I used to play pinball – but you’re way across town over by Trent’s house at Round Table Pizza.
Uhhhh, duh!
Hey! Cut me some slack. This is a long time ago for me…
Sorry.
You’re fifteen. It’s only been a few years since you and Trent were in Primary together?
Yep.
And this is back when you would go on Tuesdays after school before your church switched everything to a big three-hour block on Sunday?
I don’t see how that’s relevant, but yes.
And of all the lessons taught to you by your Primary teachers, which do you remember most?
Oh, that’s easy, because it’s pretty much all they taught, really drilling it into our heads: If you do something bad like lie, cheat or steal, it might feel good at first, but the guilt you feel later will be far worse…
And you have aided and abetted in the theft of twenty dollars and you have cut your afternoon classes to be here, eating pizza and playing Mr. Do!?
Yep.
And do you think you’ll feel guilty about it? Like how you learned in Primary?
Nope. Definitely going to be one of the greatest days in my life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Trent is done slapping the console to the rhythm of the Mr. Do! theme and it’s my turn…
Great post TQH. I’d like to request an interview from your 17-year old self.
Just when I thought I had apologized to everyone from high school…
I think that if that poor crying boy who misplaced his twenty bucks knew what a great time we had eating Round Table Pizza while listening to the worst song on the jukebox and playing Mr. Do!, he would forgive me. But if not, kid, contact me and I’ll pay you back.
But the funny thing about apologizing to people from back then for various things, I’m finding that most of the times they have completely forgotten and in confessing, I only end up making myself look bad.