Hmm... you'd think I could answer this question more easily seeing as how I play with myself all the time, but for some reason, as I sit back in by computer chair with my fingers interlocked behind my head, I can't figure out what kind of a gamer I am. Wait, I have an idea, let me ask my room mate!†
Hey Chad! What's it like to play video games with me?
You suck ...die!†
Okay, I'm back. He said I'm actually really fun to play games with and my incredible skills across all video game genres are an inspiration to him and makes him want to be a better gamer. He's such an awesome roommate, we're besties. :)†
Not buying it? Damn. I was hoping you would. The truth is I don't play very many multiplayer games, and that's because I suck -- like REALLY BAD. I've played games of all shapes and sizes; from Madden to Street Fighter, from Call of Duty to Gears of War -- and I'm not good at any of them. It's so bad, that my own friends have tried offering me up to opposing teams just so they wouldn't have to play with me. It's funny because my good friends know me better than anyone when it comes to how I game. Most people, when they're not doing well in a game, become very vocal and agitated often spewing out record-setting sentences with the most consecutive curse words. But not me, when there is a heated multiplayer battle and I'm getting steamrolled, I get quiet ...real quiet. Other team members inquire, "What happened to that jdevlin kid? Why isn't he in the chat anymore?" To which my friends will reply, "Oh he's in the chat still, he's just really mad." Don't get me wrong, when I first start playing poorly I'll throw in a curse word here and there, but after being battered into submission repeatedly for extended periods of time, I can't take it anymore and I withdraw into myself.†
That's where the anger starts boiling. I bottle it up and just let the frustration fester. I'm upset with myself, "Why can't I figure this game out? Why don't I get any better?" These questions play over and over again in my head like a movie reel at the end of its tape just spinning rapidly and making no progress, just spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning, until ...BAM! I jump up, like someone lit a firecracker under my chair, and flail around like a caged chimpanzee trying to break out of his prison. I lift my controller high into the air and hold it there threatening to pelt it at the floor and watch it smash, gloriously, into a hundred tiny pieces. What little rationality I have left dissuades me from doing so and I place the controller down gently, then proceed to search, wildly, for something else (less expensive) to break. I look like a mad dog sniffing out it's prey, when I finally spot an old TV remote. I grab it with both hands, and like Rafiki cracks the melon on Pride rock, I hold it over my head and snap it in half. Without even saying goodbye, I shut off my game system and swear off video games forever ...which usually means tomorrow. After all, I do love video games†:wassat: