I am not what you would call a "gamer." I don't play video games very often, nor did I even in the early '80s heyday of the arcade. The exceptions were Atari wire-frame vector-graphics games -- for a while there, I got pretty good at "Tempest" and not bad at "Battlezone." But I was never one to rack up a bunch of high scores.
However, next time you're at Suds 'n' Duds, the laundromat and bar in Carrboro (their motto: "We Finally Have Hot Water Again, For Now, Anyway"), your eyes may chance to fall upon one of their table top game units, similar to the ones you see in practically every bar in America. Customers can play a bunch of different games on these boxes, including card games and word games, and... trivia games. Should you watch the high scores cycle through until they get to Trivia Whiz, you may see one name dominating the "General," "Music" and "Entertainment" lists. No, not "Turd," as shown in the linked picture. The name you would see all over that one machine in Carrboro would be that of the player who calls himself "Your Mom."
I am that player. I am Your Mom.
Right now, the high scores for "Music" and "Entertainment" are completely mine. The lowest score on either list is in the high seven figures, if I recall correctly, so best of luck trying to unseat me. I have spent every laundry day of the last 12 months (or thereabouts) putting those scores up there.
Admittedly, I don't do laundry very often. I put it off until it's absolutely critical, and I always end up with about three or four big loads (I'm a big guy with big clothes and I sweat through a lot of garments pretty quickly). Which explains why I always have plenty of time to hunker down with some leftover quarters and my little tabletop friend.
However, there is unrest in the "General" high scores. There is one score there that does not belong to Your Mom. That player, my nemesis, the burr under my saddle, the snake to my mongoose, is the one known as... "Douche."
Douche (it's gotta be a guy; I don't know any ladies who would give themselves that nickname) had established a beachhead right in the middle of the "General" high score list. His score is somewhere around 9,500,000. So, my challenge was to score higher than him five times, so as to move him down and eventually off the list.
And I have been trying. So far, I've moved him down two notches. I will bump him down the rest of the way. I've got plenty of laundry, and plenty of knowledge with no other practical application. Hear me, O One Called Douche: You are a worthy adversary, but your day will soon be over. This I vow.
This is not the first time that events in my life have been similar to a Seinfeld episode, nor, I'm sure, will it be the last.
I have a couple of friends who prefer the racy Photo Hunt, wherein you look for subtle differences between the two (nekkid!) photos.
Posted by: lastewie | May 20, 2006 at 11:21 AM
If I were a betting woman, I would definitely put my money on Your Mom over Douche. Douche is vinegar soaked toast.
Posted by: marianne | May 21, 2006 at 09:45 AM
"Hello, Douche."
"Hello, Your Mom..."
--
How many pairs of underwear do you have?
And have I badgered you yet (or enough) about buying some of the Champion C9 wicking shirts? They have a website somewhere, in case you want to make sure about sizes for people the opposite size of me.
Posted by: Phil | May 21, 2006 at 10:10 PM
Phil: Who says I wear underwear? And you have badgered me just exactly enough about the wicking shirts. I don't like them. At least not for everyday wear. The weird plasticky fabric bugs me. I do wear them sometimes whilst exercising, though.
Posted by: Jerry | May 21, 2006 at 10:53 PM
Suds and Duds actually has hot water now?!?!? We have a washer/dryer in the new place but I still remain quite shocked. I really like that place but had to give up because of the cold water situation.
I am Douche.
Okay, not really. But please kick their ass.
Posted by: I Zimbra | May 22, 2006 at 10:42 AM
I Zimbra, should I just assume that every mysterious person in my life from here on out -- whether it be someone who honks at me on the street or someone whose high score vexes me -- is you? That would simplify my life a lot.
I think S'n'D is under new management now. They were so proud of the hot water, they actually advertised it in a sign on the window last year. They've also installed new machines, so even after you subtract the 50 percent that are always out of order, there are still more machines to work with.
I have a whole free-market theory about how laundromats actually feel no pressure from the marketplace to be nice places to go to. Which is why so many of them are miserable places. It is a half-baked theory that is probably completely wrong.
Posted by: Jerry | May 23, 2006 at 10:23 AM
If my omnipotence will simplify your life, and you want that, I am here for you, dear Jerry. I want a mango, coconut & basil locopop. That was an unrelated comment.
Posted by: I Zimbra | May 24, 2006 at 04:17 PM
Jerry, If your my mom, then who's my daddy?
Posted by: Nick | May 31, 2006 at 05:17 PM