While you were sucked into a make-believe digital world for eight hours straight on a Saturday, slaying zombies and saving the planet from an apocalypse that is not actually taking place, the rest of us were out in 3D land, exercising and breathing fresh air and hanging out and conversing about some real life type shit. We were also drinking and forging relationships and trading tales of all the promiscuous sex that you are not having — you know, on account of your resting heart rate of 150 beats per minute, your amoeba-like tub of guts you call a torso, and appendages that are taking on the symptoms of rigor mortis due to extreme inactivity.
Oh nice, the new Madden release date was just announced. You better hop on that waiting list so you can drop $60 and settle into your windowless den with a nice little dynasty mode and burn your entire summer taking the Houston Texans to 10 consecutive Super Bowls while negotiating faux contracts with the cutthroat intensity of the real version of Drew Rosenhaus. Maybe even create a player and name him after yourself and take him all the way to the Hall of Fame — an oversized, white middle linebacker with serious range, a nose for the football, and taped fingers instead of gloves. He’s blitzing every play. A real lunch pail kinda guy.
Or maybe Grand Theft Auto is more your flavor. Maybe you want to spend your adulthood taking baseball bats to old ladies’ faces on the sidewalk for walking around money, or close some deals and run errands for seedy drug lords while destroying an entire metropolitan. What do you think? Sound fun? Maybe take a digital prostitute into the back alley for some sucky-sucky before taking out a machete and slicing open her throat and spilling blood all over your back seat so you don’t have to pay her the $15. Does that sound fun to you, you sick son of a bitch?
You’re probably more of a Call of Duty person, aren’t you? First-person shooter with a hard-as-fuck gamertag who gets mad respect from other gamers. You just go around mowing down Nazis like you were born to do, don’t you? All the fake war glory you can handle without having to go to actual war. You’re not cut out for that life, but Ih8newbz69 thinks you’re cool so fuck it.
And, of course, your headset. Holy shit, that stupid fucking headset. The perfect gamer nerd accessory.
Nothing says I have my shit together while simultaneously soaking every pair of panties in a five-mile radius like a grown ass man wearing a gamer headset with a Britney Spears-style microphone attached. Just killing daylight with your feet propped up on a coffee table covered in empty soda cans and shredded bags of potato chips, topped off by wearing that drive-thru window-style headset with a 12-year-old kid in Sheboygan, Wisconsin on the other end on the verge of tears as you engage him in some pretty adult-themed shit talk. Ever cuss at a child through one of those headsets? You have, haven’t you? What’s the matter with you?
You’re an adult now. It’s time to act like one, and that entails retiring your make-believe hobbies and lifestyle. Get out of the house. Build some social skills. Go hiking. Give Mom that once-a-year phone call. Pay some bills. Fire up the grill and call up the boys. Throw some late night texts out to see who’s biting. There’s a big world out there, just waiting for you.
Speaking of women, I just took a poll of 1,000 randoms from the internet, and 1,000 of them prefer a grown man who doesn’t own a gamer headset. I didn’t actually conduct this survey, but if I did, that’s 100% how the results would come out. You think women prefer a guy who boasts a major league kill-to-death ratio in COD over a guy who wears a suit to work and has a flush 401(k)? No. And yes, these characteristics are mutually exclusive.
It’s time to put the video games away, chief..
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