I have a Kindle Fire. (It’s hardly big news, but all stories have
to start somewhere.) I think the SO expected me to use my Kindle Fire to read
all the time, get into RSS feeds, keep up with news from all over the web,
etc., etc. Instead, I quickly developed an addiction for Bejeweled.
(“Addiction” isn’t an exaggeration here. When I find something new, it’s all I want to do. So far, the only thing this particular personality trait has done for me is allow me to get through lots of episodes of television in a short period of time. I might need to work on my concept of “purpose.”)
When I was done with Bejeweled, I moved on to various hidden objects/puzzle games. (I am a complete nerd.) However, it was hard to find anything that gave me the same satisfaction as Bejeweled – until I discovered The Oregon Trail.
Unlike The Oregon Trail of my youth, which involved way too much dysentary and fording of rivers, The Oregon Trail app lets you build a town out West and make it prosper. You get to build houses, businesses, add livestock, plant crops … basically, a lot of incredibly boring stuff designed for 10-year-olds that I seem to find fascinating.
To say that I got into my town would be an understatement akin to saying that the Amy Poehler/Will Arnett split was mildly upsetting. (If those two can’t make it work, I don’t know if the rest of us have a chance. Can’t they stay together for America? Seriously.)
I worked on my town all the time. I cleared all the land possible to clear. I built mansions. I had every business available, including the special edition town hall and a prospecting cart. I occasionally ignored my boyfriend for my town.
“Something, something, something,” SO says.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I’d say while staring down at my Kindle Fire.
“Something, something, something.”
“Uh-huh,” I’d say, while thinking, “If I can just collect from the big log cabins two more times, I can add another telegraph office.”
“It’s your town again, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” (Thinking: “How did I run out of energy so quickly?”)
“That’s what I thought.”
I made it to level 91 on The Oregon Trail. I don’t think any sane person is supposed to do that. I had a $1,000,000 fake dollars stored in my Trail bank account. I was out of control.
Then, my Kindle Fire died. It stopped holding a charge, and I had to ship it back to Amazon headquarters. Was I worried about my books or my many, many apps? No. I was worried about my town. What would happen to my progress? What would become of my houses and the black sheep I won? (You can’t purchase a black sheep. You can only win one. I’m sure you can all see my dilemma.)
Well, sure enough, when the new Kindle Fire arrived, there was no town, and that’s when the SO and I had a talk I’m sure every couple has at some point in their relationship.
“Well, it’s gone,” I said.
“I know that meant a lot to you?” the SO said.
“It’s all gone.”
“I’m sorry?”
“And you know what,” I said. “I don’t think I’m going to rebuild. It was a good run, but I just don’t think I have the energy to go through it again.”
I’d tell you what the SO said next, but I couldn’t understand him through the explosion of laughter.
