'Sad days' said Said
A dreary cloud now floats over my head. The Street Fighter machine at the corner laundromat is now inoperable. The player 1 joystick has been making like the left sensor was waiting to give out for weeks, and it finally did. I was guilty and ashamed that I was the idiot who broke it BUT, I wasn't doing anything extraordinary (like smashing the joystick in anger) and also, I figure I've been the only one playing the game for the last 2 or 3 weeks. I have so much sentiment in my heart for this machine: the wavering vertical lines that flicker so distractingly in the CRT, the words 'Fuck Pete Wilson' carved into the plastic of the joystick shelf, the old and yellowing cardboard window overlay still left from 1991 when the kit was first assembled. Although there are thousands still like it in existence, it feels like an old friend; it feels like coming home.