This doesn’t look like the face of a fatal addiction, does it? But my hands are cramped, my mouth is drawn back into a rictus grin, and I hear myself thinking, just one more… Twenty minutes later, just one more…
I can go years at a time without playing a computer game. Or I could. Oh, this all started innocently enough.
Youngerson and I were sitting in the DMV, waiting to get his learner’s permit (Mistake one, right?) He’s playing some game on his phone I’ve never seen, so I ask. He explains the basics and suggests installing it on mine so that he can have his own back. (The wild eyes should have clued me in that here be crack.)
I connected the dots with a fingertip. (Read I took the first hit.) And I’ve been doing it ever since. Even getting good at it intermittently. The game rewards you for doing well, and punishes you for not using its resources wisely. (Yes, that term is relative, but when your chain is missing a possible dot on either end because you set your finger down in the wrong spot, you get crap dots for a while.) It chimes a little tune, which gets louder when you do well, and you find yourself want to please it, to get that little sequence that means you closed a loop, or maybe two.
I woke up this morning with an afterimage of the dots filling my field of vision. I’d tried using the dinosaur icons, but discovered that I didn’t like the screen that way. The dinosaurs cost me 2000
tokes. I mean tokens. I could buy a lot of poppers for 2000 tokens. Yeah, I could pop the pesky dots that interfere.
(You thought something else entirely, didn’t you. Confess.)
The real issue, in retrospect, is that I had 2000 tokens, earned 18 or 19 or 50 or 60 at a time, to spend on different icons. And I didn’t like them. But wait, the little fruit figures are cute, and only 2000 tokens. Excuse me, it’ll only take me another 15-20 minutes to get the rest of the tokens I need…
You can find it here, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.