A Cry For Help
I admit it. I have a problem. Some may even call it an addiction. It rears it’s ugly head every weekend and I can’t shake it. I can start the evening with good intentions but I know deep down when it comes to the crunch I’m going to cave in. This is the confession of a drunken Xbox Live user.
When I’m sober I find live to be a bit of a trial. It’s great fun playing and chatting with mates, but I feel a bit dirty when interacting with the great unwashed. Maybe I’m just a big uptight Brit, maybe I feel a bit weird talking to American kids half my age who are obviously retarded. Gears of War multiplayer is meant to be great, but no way am I going to get head-stomped and laughed at by xXEyeP3wNEdUXx, aged 12, from Utah. Well not unless I’m pissed anyway.
You see, most Friday or Saturday nights I’m in the pub. It’s quite often an achievement in itself to get off the couch and go out after a hard week browsing the internet at work. Then after four or five pints my thoughts start drifting towards the 360. When I get home I know I should go to bed, get a decent bit of kip, and prepare myself for a new day. To my (very understanding) girlfriend’s disappointment, this is rarely the case.
The choice of game will depend on the amount of drink taken. If I’ve only had a few, I might try my hand at a sports game – TW07, PES6, VT3. This usually lasts about ten minutes, I get destroyed by some sober person, and then I realise that pint number eight was ‘the one too many’.
At this point Rainbow 6 Vegas usually makes an appearance. The headset goes on, the mic put on mute. I don’t want to speak to these people, but I want to hear the racist and homophobic shit they come out with, and to make sure none of it is directed at me. I make sure I play sharpshooter so I don’t have to communicate with these people. If I don’t finish in last place, I know I’m not completely slaughtered; I can shoot a few of these pricks without getting shot too much myself. If I finish last I know I’m in trouble, there is only one place left to go…
Texas Hold ‘em is the refuge of the damned. I’m too drunk to swing a golf club or shoot Americans, but I can drink more and hold my own in a game of cards, even if I can see three screens instead of one. The biggest challenge is staying awake, a challenge I often fail.
To anyone I have annoyed by falling asleep while playing Texas Hold ‘em, I’m sorry. I deserved the negative reputation points, I’m a dick. I’m sorry for the time I used the 3 Wood to hit the ball as far away from the green as I could after the ball I putted magically jumped out of the hole. And most of all I’d like to say sorry to my girlfriend for making her sleep in a cold and lonely bed most weekend nights this winter.
The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. That will probably be a distant memory this Friday night come closing time.




