Everybody's Working For the Weekend, Pt. 6
This Episode of Lost Laundry Was Brought to You By Atari
Growing up, my parents didn't allow video games and preferred to lob books at me to read. I didn't mind, as I liked reading, but it was sad to me and my nerdling sisters that when everyone else was already on their Nintendo 64 we were just then getting regular Nintendo.
And regular Nintendo with the original Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt.
Fortunately my grandmother in Arkansas was less miserly with the video games, getting an Atari console back when everyone had Ataris in the 1980s. And, at my Granny's house, my favorite game to play was "Centipede."
The game isn't rocket science, it's about killing bugs in a quick fashion before they kill you. There was some fantasy back story. I can't recall it right now. Maybe they'll make a movie about it in Hollywood. They're making "Bewitched" (which actually looks mildly inoffensive) and a live action "Transformers" (which will probably make me react violently in some sort of manner.) So why not "Centipede?" It can't be worse than the second "Anaconda" film.
But long story short, I love "Centipede." I tricked myself into finally doing my laundry by telling myself I would save quarters to play the old school arcade game at my Laundromat.
Now, I hate the Laundromat with a passion. I hate washing clothes and all domestic chores. I've never liked it. Sometimes I will even go out and buy clothes just to avoid washing the ones I already have. (But that gets expensive fast.) But I knew I was reaching critical mass with the dirty clothes. All my work pants and blouses were rank and it was do-or-die.
So I took up several washers, strapped on the headphones to that Gwen Stefani CD that I like (save that one horrid "Harajuku Girls" song that causes violent urges in me) and strapped myself in for some Atari.
I found that the time just flew when I was killing things! The clothes seemed to magically dance into the dryer as I conversed with a tiny tot who insisted he had beat the game once, even though he had to ask me twice what exact game I was playing.
Cute little kid. All lying to me. It was sweet.
I was having so much fun, that literally I didn't notice that I'd loaded seven washers, not six. No, I was too busy bopping my head, enjoying the mania of "Bubble Pop Electric." I was suddenly eight and I was in my Granny's house I was killing little pixilated bleeps and whistles while a Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam cut played in the background.
The gaming experience perked me up so much that I left the Laundromat without realizing that I had a washer with all my work pants and jackets, a dress and several blouses, still there.
I would go on to have my car washed by plucky Bible study kids. I would go home, talk on the phone to my friend for two hours, work on the screenplay then go see "Youthanasia." I went to the after party. And I woke up on Sunday to write some more, then not realize I was missing my work clothes until it was time for me to go in to work a Sunday evening shift at Ye Olde Californian.
And so, for the past three days I've worn the same pair of dark jeans to work.
Not happy about that.
I also lost a favorite jacket and a beloved pair of striped pants.
Not happy about that either.
But in the larger scheme of things, this weekend did not completely blow and in the end that's what really counts. As the song goes, "There Is Life Outside Your Apartment!" And sometimes you have to leave your house if you want to get your clothes clean or be kissed by strangers. So get a life and go out and do something wild and crazy (within the confides of the law). You'll feel better. And if your clothes get stolen ... well, hopefully they went to a better place.
"And drop page ... and SCENE!"
--------------------------
That said, now that I've gotten all this out of my system, it is time to return to our regularly scheduled programming of local on-goings, TV programs I hate, neat web sites, The Californian, local entertainment, downtown, music and the occasional celebrity parody.
Growing up, my parents didn't allow video games and preferred to lob books at me to read. I didn't mind, as I liked reading, but it was sad to me and my nerdling sisters that when everyone else was already on their Nintendo 64 we were just then getting regular Nintendo.
And regular Nintendo with the original Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt.
Fortunately my grandmother in Arkansas was less miserly with the video games, getting an Atari console back when everyone had Ataris in the 1980s. And, at my Granny's house, my favorite game to play was "Centipede."
The game isn't rocket science, it's about killing bugs in a quick fashion before they kill you. There was some fantasy back story. I can't recall it right now. Maybe they'll make a movie about it in Hollywood. They're making "Bewitched" (which actually looks mildly inoffensive) and a live action "Transformers" (which will probably make me react violently in some sort of manner.) So why not "Centipede?" It can't be worse than the second "Anaconda" film.
But long story short, I love "Centipede." I tricked myself into finally doing my laundry by telling myself I would save quarters to play the old school arcade game at my Laundromat.
Now, I hate the Laundromat with a passion. I hate washing clothes and all domestic chores. I've never liked it. Sometimes I will even go out and buy clothes just to avoid washing the ones I already have. (But that gets expensive fast.) But I knew I was reaching critical mass with the dirty clothes. All my work pants and blouses were rank and it was do-or-die.
So I took up several washers, strapped on the headphones to that Gwen Stefani CD that I like (save that one horrid "Harajuku Girls" song that causes violent urges in me) and strapped myself in for some Atari.
I found that the time just flew when I was killing things! The clothes seemed to magically dance into the dryer as I conversed with a tiny tot who insisted he had beat the game once, even though he had to ask me twice what exact game I was playing.
Cute little kid. All lying to me. It was sweet.
I was having so much fun, that literally I didn't notice that I'd loaded seven washers, not six. No, I was too busy bopping my head, enjoying the mania of "Bubble Pop Electric." I was suddenly eight and I was in my Granny's house I was killing little pixilated bleeps and whistles while a Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam cut played in the background.
The gaming experience perked me up so much that I left the Laundromat without realizing that I had a washer with all my work pants and jackets, a dress and several blouses, still there.
I would go on to have my car washed by plucky Bible study kids. I would go home, talk on the phone to my friend for two hours, work on the screenplay then go see "Youthanasia." I went to the after party. And I woke up on Sunday to write some more, then not realize I was missing my work clothes until it was time for me to go in to work a Sunday evening shift at Ye Olde Californian.
And so, for the past three days I've worn the same pair of dark jeans to work.
Not happy about that.
I also lost a favorite jacket and a beloved pair of striped pants.
Not happy about that either.
But in the larger scheme of things, this weekend did not completely blow and in the end that's what really counts. As the song goes, "There Is Life Outside Your Apartment!" And sometimes you have to leave your house if you want to get your clothes clean or be kissed by strangers. So get a life and go out and do something wild and crazy (within the confides of the law). You'll feel better. And if your clothes get stolen ... well, hopefully they went to a better place.
"And drop page ... and SCENE!"
--------------------------
That said, now that I've gotten all this out of my system, it is time to return to our regularly scheduled programming of local on-goings, TV programs I hate, neat web sites, The Californian, local entertainment, downtown, music and the occasional celebrity parody.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home