I'm going to be honest with you. There are games I have so hopelessly longed for that their arrival has been met with such delicate preparation and subtle conniving that the proper hierarchy of my priorities has been called into question by family, friends, and in one instance, even a store manager.
The zenith of my game-addicted lunacy came with the release ofLegend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time for the N64. I arranged vacation from work well ahead of time, and I spent the better part of an afternoon carefully rearranging the living room to maximize my total state of vegetated laziness.
I brought the mini-fridge out from my room and nestled it carefully onto the couch. I bought and hung drapes, so I wouldn't be bothered by pesky glare when I played during the daytime. I even hung notes on the door for the pizza guy, so I wouldn't have to get up from an important boss fight or puzzle-solving dilemma upon their arrival.
My roommate and I also had an agreement in which we could ask the other to leave for the weekend once a month, so we would have the place to our respective selves. He put in his request for a girl. I put mine in for Zelda.
My Zelda experience was oh-so-blissfully sweet—and I've repeated the time off work and rearranging the living room stratagem with much success since then—but I have come to terms with a new axiom: Girls must always come before video games (though combining the two would be the ultimate goal).
Granted, I admit that there is a line between being hardcore about video games and knocking on the door to the scatological world of Categorically Insane. The people in the white coats might be nice, but there are no Xbox® consoles in those padded rooms, so we wouldn't want that.
Luckily, I've devised a list of warning signals. If you find yourself in any of the following situations, you must do two things. One, tell everyone you know, so they can have a good hearty chuckle at your expense. Two, seek immediate psychiatric help.
If you're on your sixth soda in an hour, while playing match after match of Clan-on-Clan battles in Halo® 2, and the phrase "man, I wish I had a catheter" enters your head, you know you're in trouble. Stop now! Put down the controller, step away, and waddle as carefully as you can to the bathroom. Peeing must take precedence.
If you spend so much time at your local game store that you're repeatedly asked to leave for hogging the game kiosks, you may want to engage in a little self reflection. Getting in trouble with your boss is one thing. Getting in trouble with your wife, principal, friends, and family is one thing. But, getting in trouble with the pimply greasy kid behind the counter at your local game store is something else entirely.
If you've ever gone to a friend's house and played a game all night until that same friend comes down to go to work the next morning, you're a hardcore gamer. If you're still there when your friend gets back from work, you’re something else entirely. Plus, you're probably seeing spots, scratching yourself in places that don't even itch, and wondering why there are pink bunnies singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in Ninja Gaiden®. (Hint: There aren't any. You're either losing it, or you're a much bigger fan of Judy Garland than you should ever admit).
If the thought "wow, if I moved back in with my parents, I could buy so many more games" ever enters your head, it's time to stop, pinch yourself, seek help, and maybe even cry a little. They'll be tears of shame, this is true, but sobbing can be a cleansing experience. If you're thinking about moving back in with mommy and daddy, your outlook on life could use a serious wash.
If you save up all your food money to buy games, you're not just hardcore, you're flat-out dedicated. Here's a tip though: If you're in high-school, try asking for an extra plate from the lunch lady. Then load up your own salad at the condiments bar. They usually have lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and some sort of ranch sauce. Frankly, that's all a growing body needs. If you're not in school, then a steady diet of Oodles and Noodles will get you through the lean times. I don't think you can overdose on sodium anyway.
The general rule of thumb here is: Everything in moderation. If you can't handle moderation, then at least don't tip over the line into absolute gluttony.
In short, if you ever find yourself eating ramen seven days a week, living at your parent's house, repeatedly crashing at your friend's pad, and inventing the ultimate self-install catheter in your non-gaming time, you pretty much deserve the life you've carved out for yourself.
Be sure to get in touch with me 10 years down the road, though, because I'll be real curious how that works out for you.
