If you’re like me, video games have crept into every corner
of your life and psyche. That’s normal, right?
Video games have always been a big part of my life, so much
so that I can’t help seeing connections to them in the real world, kind of like
how the Beautiful Mind guy sees numbers everywhere
(though in reality, this is probably
more accurate). In one of my
first FTAP columns, I wrote about some of the real-life game crossovers I “played”
during last year’s E3, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.
I’ve spent the past couple days obsessing casually thinking about the commonalities that video game genres share with my day-to-day activities, and as it turns out, there’s a lot of them! Below is a whole list of game genres and
their totally ordinary real-life counterparts that I’m sure everyone who is a normal
person like me can relate to. So let’s get started!
Springtime Walks In Minnesota
Winterfell ain’t got sh– on Minnesota, but this year’s mild
snowy offerings have already given way to an early spring. My wife and I have
tried to capitalize on Mother Nature’s blessings,
but you can’t walk two feet without running into a flooded sidewalk. The
solution? My wife walks in the street like a boring, dry-shoed person, but I
approach the challenge like any platforming pro would: shimmying along sidewalk
edges, balancing on curbs, and leaping between foot-soaking puddles.
Admittedly, my approach is less Nathan Drake and more old-school Prince of
Persia – i.e. inching right up to the edge, trying to leap from a standing position,
and biffing hard.
Looking For My Keys
Sure, I might not be exploring some alien world or saving
the day, but the all-too-frequent quest to find my keys is like an adventure
game in every other way – from desperately scouring every inch of my environment
for clues, to futilely testing absurd solutions in hopes of progressing (“Did I maybe drop them in this box of cereal
somehow?”). If you’re inclined to assign a sub-genre, I’d probably call it a Graphic
Adventure based on the language I mutter to myself during the
Using A Treadmill
These two activities play out identically for me – I spend
the entire time wondering why the hell I’m putting myself through such a
pointless exercise, until I quit out of sheer boredom (which usually takes about five minutes). As a result, I don’t even bother downloading endless runners
anymore, and my treadmill has a bunch of boxes stacked on top of it. My wife
keeps saying we need to clear it off, but that’s an easy fix: Just turn it on
and stand clear!
Arguing With My Wife Over Spoilers
Look, I wrote a
whole column on my weirdness with spoilers, and I don’t want to get into it
again. Suffice it to say, there’s no reason to read Netflix’s “next episode”
synopsis when you’re going to watch said episode five seconds later – and I’ll fight anyone to
the death who says otherwise (naturally, by “fight to death” I mean cover their
eyes and whisper “spoilers!” into their ear). I can’t count the number of times
my wife and I have clashed over this charming personality quirk* of mine, but
thankfully we only have a 15-second window to argue before the next episode starts,
so it never escalates beyond mild annoyance.
Using A Public Restroom
What else is there to say? Every time I slowly creak open a
restroom door Resident Evil-style, I shudder at the horrific sights I may
encounter – then breathe a sigh of relief on the way out for having survived
another perilous adventure. It’s not just me…right?
The Crap I Stuff In My Wallet
Long before Hearthstone took the industry by storm, I was
playing my own collectible card game. The goal? See how much useless crap I can
cram into my wallet. Random business cards, countless faded receipts, an
expired U of M alumni card – I might as well print out some copies of Magma
Rager and stuff them in there for good measure. I still carry around an MTA
Metro Pass for the subway in New York, and I haven’t lived there for 15 years! I’ve
actually tried to clean out my wallet in the past, but it’s been overstuffed
for so many years that my credit cards slide right out if they’re not wedged into
the card slots with useless filler. I guess in that sense it’s actually useful
filler – but not any less pathetic.
Genre: Farming Sim
I’ve written about my obsession
with Stardew Valley in the past, but I’ve been known to enjoy a little IRL
gardening as well; a row of out-of-control raspberry bushes keeps our freezer
stocked with fruit all year. Granted there is one drawback, in the form of a
berry-stealing squirrel that taunts me with its cold, beady eyes at it eats the
literal fruits of my labor. Above and beyond my rodent rival, however, I just
wish the rest of the yardwork also had some tangible benefit – or that it would
be over with a few button taps.
Genre: Idle Clicker
Real-life equivalent: Elevator Buttons
I don’t care if it doesn’t speed up the elevator, I’m furiously tapping that button until the doors open. And the fact that the “Close Door” button is a dirty lie won’t stop me from jamming on it, either – especially when I see Shea walking up.
Genre: Arcade Racing
My Morning Commute
Alright, alright, my drive to work would actually be the
most mundane racing sim ever, requiring you to diligently drive the speed limit at all times and use your blinker even when no one is around, while an MPR report on tax policy plays at a comfortable audio level. However, anytime I miss a light or get
stuck behind some idiot waiting to turn against oncoming traffic, I fantasize of
hitting my nonexistent turbo button and ramming everyone off the road. So I’m
going to go ahead and count that as Arcade Racing – or maybe Car Combat?
Troubleshooting Parental Tech Problems Over The Phone
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve helped my parents
figure out why they can’t “boot up the Internet,” I’d be as rich as the savviest
Silicon Valley snob. But figuring out the problem and conveying the solution
over the phone requires all the planning and deep strategy of a Sid Meier game – and plays out just as slowly. Each simplified command is followed by 30 seconds
of dead silence, like the transmission delay from a moon mission for
dummies. “Is there a light blinking? Unplug
it then plug it back in. Did that do anything? Are you sure it’s not blinking? Describe what you think the icon looks like. Okay, let’s start from square one: Is the computer on fire? Houston, we have a problem.**” Picking
the right strategy is the only thing saving me from a 20-minute drive to manually reboot
their modem, and I’m not thrilled with my win-loss ratio.
My Evening Routine
Let’s see, I can do this: eXercise, eXamine my Netflix
queue, eXpand my waistline (a.k.a. take my pants off), and eXplain whatever
idiotic thing I recently did to my wife. Piece of cake.
Picking Out Socks In The Dark
Before you jump to any conclusions: No, I don’t have three
legs. What I do have is two different types of socks: Some black Hanes socks
with red lettering, and some cheapo knock-off socks that nevertheless still successfully cover my feet. So why grab three? Like any normal person, I pick out my
clothes in the dark after stumbling out of bed five seconds earlier – grabbing three guarantees at least two of them will match. The third usually
gets balled up and thrown at my wife when she least expects it.
Real-life equivalent: Sneaking To Bed At 5:00AM
For me (and I’m sure you, because we’ve established that all of this behavior is perfectly normal), every late-night video game bender ends with an obligatory stealth sequence – i.e. turning off all the lights in the house and tip-toeing into the bedroom so as to not wake up my snoozing wife. Oftentimes, she falls asleep on the couch instead, in which case it becomes a kind of stealth/escort hybrid mission: I have to guide her to the bedroom in a half-asleep state, without bumping her into any furniture or letting her see the bedroom clock. Even when she does figure out how ridiculously late it is, she doesn’t complain much – turns out that on the spectrum of male behavior, there are far worse reasons for sneaking to bed at 5:00AM than quietly playing video games in the next room.
Genre: Party Game
Going To Parties (Duh)
The only difference here is that there’s only one mini-game
in real life, and it’s seeing how much cake I can eat before I want to throw
Learning Japanese In College
Just like Roguelikes, my four years of studying Japanese in
college featured a high degree of randomness, and slow, statistical improvement – and when it was over I lost all of my progress. Sad! – or as the Japanese
would say, …I can’t remember.
Cleaning My Nonexistent Cat’s Litterbox
I don’t actually own a cat, but if I did, I imagine that
attending to the litterbox would be just like exploring the wide-open landscape of your favorite sandbox RPG – only the main questline is finding turds. That also aptly
sums up why I don’t own a cat.
*Those are my words for it, but you probably guessed that… (back to top)
**If this joke bothers you because technically I’m Houston
in this scenario, then congratulations: You’re as neurotic as I am. (back to top)