Sketch 3

I can't even remember the age anymore, but it was definitely before I was nine years old. My mom was invited to a company dinner hosted by Jay, the boss of a business called Graphic Dimensions, and his wife at their home in Douglasville, GA. I wormed my way through a sea of formal wear and classy dresses as though I were actually a worm in a thick, crowded apple. My mom could probably tell that I was bored out of my mind, and it may have been her who guided me downstairs to where a group of girls were playing with a few things: dolls, toys, and a video game system.

Now, at this point, video games were a completely different world to me. To me, it was just a box that seemed to serve some purpose, so in my natural curiosity, I poked it and prodded it until it turned on (one of the girls there might have had something to do with that). The screen illuminated with color, and I saw a little man made of blocks named Mario scurry across the screen for the first time in my life.

I started the game, and I felt the entire world around me fade away. It was only me, controlling this little man walking around an entire world made of blocks. I leaped across giant chasms and smashed the brains of little living mushrooms, all the while picking up weird stuff like flowers and stars. All of a sudden, one of the little mushroom bastards bit me! This entire world stopped, and I felt the real world creeping up to me again, slowly...slowly...

I could never have understood it then, but that moment changed my life forever. Playing that game led me to a world far more interesting than reality, regardless of its graphic inferiority. As a natural escapist, this world suited me far better at the time than a world filled with people I may or may not get along with.

It was at that moment that I became...a video game addict.