Game Slave
I took a brief hiatus from games just after the SNES. My brother and I scrimped and saved our allowances for almost a year, making it one of our most treasured possessions. However, by the end of my high school days money was best spent on other things like petrol and insurance for my horseless carriage, saving for even more schooling, and a bevy of substances of varying degrees of legality. All these expenses added up and the job I had didn't pay enough for me to engage in the pursuit of videogames so I took a sabbatical, which is to say that I spent all my time hanging out with people who could afford such electronic frivolities. Regardless, I feel like I skipped a generation.
Fast forward a few years and, with a bit more money in my pocket and Sega stumbling, dazed and confused, towards a horrible death, I purchase a Dreamcast at a significant discount. It is still one of the best purchases I ever made, and I fully understand the sentimental feelings that people display for Sega's swan song. It is with awe, then, that I perused this auction. What kind of person collects 606 Dreamcast games, their glimmering, virgin surfaces protected and encased inside untouched pockets of cellophane? How much time, energy, and currency had it required to amass this collection? How much money can one get for one's kidney? Is human trafficking that difficult?
All these questions ran through my mind but alas they must remain unanswered for the auction has ended, seemingly with no bids. Why? Perhaps the seller, tortured by the thought of being parted from their precious beauties, withdrew them. Maybe they never had any intention of selling them, merely using eBay as a tool to show off their treasures and instill as much vociferous geek envy in as many people as possible. More than likely, though, they received a private email offering a substantial sum to end the auction early, most likely with one or two Slavic girls thrown in to sweeten the deal.
