The Games People Play

For years I ignored them, cursed them, and blocked them; those annoying Facebook alerts about the games my friends were playing.  I was bombarded with desperate requests to send them lives and help them unlock the next level. Sadly, I may have even judged their game play as an indication of the free time I only wish I had. I was way too busy for that foolishness; way too self-important to flounder away my free time with such frivolousness.  But I’m also too curious to for my own good sometimes.

So of course, I had to see what the fuss was all about. 

Which is why I haven’t written a column for over a month.

Who has time to write when the bouncing Candy Crush doll keeps telling me I’ve failed to clear all the jelly? Or when the cute little puppy with the doe eyes is crying to be rescued? How can I possibly break away from the internet to write a blog when my friends are nudging me to make my next move in Words with Friends?

Oh sure, the games seem simple enough at the start. That’s how they suck you in. ‘This is a piece of cake!’ you think as you ace the early levels, feeling confident you could possibly be the smartest person on Facebook, or maybe even the world. Once you’ve whipped through enough challenges to build up your confidence to an all-time high, they own you.

The first time you don’t win, you think “hmmph… that’s weird”. But as the levels progress, anyone with the slightest competitive spirit quickly gets sucked in to the point of no return. It doesn’t matter how busy you are, you WILL make time to continue the battle. At some point, you may even realize there are cheat websites and help forums to help you win (not that I’ve used them… I’ve only heard about them). You may even fib about the existence of said websites as you Google “how to win level 47 in Candy Crush”. (Just an example; not me).

In less than a week, Facebook games went from being a mild curiosity to #1 on my to-do list: Must make it to the next level of every game before the end of the day. I would obsess over it, and check my phone constantly to be sure it was off because I swear I could hear the mesmerizing sound track to Candy Crush playing.

I knew it was time for a self-imposed intervention as I sat alone in my dark apartment, face aglow with the light from my phone, as dust bunnies danced around me and dirty dishes and clothes waited to be washed. I was staring at a countdown clock when Doug came home from a late night meeting, assessed the situation and stated the obvious: “What the heck is going on here?”

I’ll tell you what is going on.

Pets are waiting to be rescued, I’m 10 moves behind in Words with Friends and I have all vowels, and I still have 2 minutes and 13 seconds until my next life. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was little choked up about it all.

Wow.

In those moments when you see the ridiculousness of your actions through someone else’s eyes, you suddenly get it.
And I got it.

Did I stop playing games? Not entirely, but they are finally falling lower on my TO DO list, and are now comfortably behind eat and sleep.  Eventually I will stop entirely. Or at least try to stop. Or at least think about it.

But first, does anyone know how to break through level 47 in Candy Crush?