12:41 a.m. - 2005-07-21
the sword of dame-o-cles
Believe it or not, the mall doesn't have a single pinball machine. I tried to explain to B McD why this made me sad, but it wasn't getting through. Really it was just such a sad arcade generally. Kind of boxy and a bit dim, but not dark enough to evoke the cluttered excitement of the mall arcades of my youth - nor bright and futuristic enough to be a proper home to all the gizmo-rific games of today. It was just kind of this bare room with some games stuck in it. And no pinball. If I had travelled to the present at age 11, what would my dad have been able to play at the arcade?
Right up until I left work I was thinking I would go to Foxz, but at that point I decided that it was late and with a bum foot there was really no point. It would be so lame to get there, wow some previously unknown dame with my rendition of "Indiana Wants Me," and then be unable to seal the deal off by dancing up with her during the cheap, short little imitation of a dance party that they have these days. Maybe those abortive parties are the reason it will never have felt like 2005 had a summer.
I could have gone for some Junk Yard though. Dammit!
Well, I guess I'm happy listening to my new but familiar Built To Spill record. Oh, and I could sit and update my planner with all events from Afternoon Delight to Made $69 At Work Last Night, to Busted Foot. Ow.
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