Wouldn't Want Him Soiling His Legend of Zelda Underwear

While purchasing groceries this weekend, I swung by the electronics department of the greatest store in the world, Meijer, in an effort to procure a screen protector for my beloved PSP (and no, they don't give me money for saying that, but I would seriously consider a sponsorship - call my people and we'll make this happen). I figured I have them for the DS and the iPhones, so I should probably do the same for my PSP, even of touching the screen is not an inherent part of the experience. Anyway, I asked this kid working there if he knew where they were, and mentioned that their PSP supplies were dwindling lately, and he made, much to my suprise, the following statement: "Well, it's not that good."

Now understand that for a moment, I seriously considered unleashing all of the pent up fury and hate that I swallow in the name of remaining somewhat civilized on this poor kid. I mean, given a moment's thought (which could be giving him too much credit), I obviously own the system that I was attempting to purchase the accessory for, so this is at best an ill-advised comment to be making to a customer. I'm not sure what the look on my face was in response, but it was sufficiently venomous to have him quickly pin on a frightened "in my opinion", which kept me from my scathing diatribe.

Still, I kind of wish I hadn't held back, as the only reason someone would make such a statement is something I loathe: fanboyism. See, his comment implied that there is a superior system to my own, the most likely the Nintendo DS (which, through my daughter, I also have access to). Now, he's free to have a preference between the available systems - it's none of my concern. This need to actively bad mouth a system, however, stems from this immature, ridiculous, almost religious devotion to the hardware you have chosen to play video games on. It's really bad with the Xbox 360 vs. PlayStation crowd, whose nerd rage never fails to litter the comments section of Kotaku with nuggets of wisdom like "well if you played it on instead of a piece of %#$@ then you'd agree". Very helpful insight, really.

So yes, part of me wished I had opened up and allowed all of the bile I have built up to spill forth onto this poor little man. I imagine it like a horror movie, where I would open my mouth and dark beasts would begin to spill out, demons and insects holding him fast while I explained that every decision he's ever made has led to this unfortunate place, where the most important thing he has to offer humanity is his meaningless opinion to someone who has no interest in it, something worth less than nothing. I wanted to lay his soul to waste, leaving him to cry himself to sleep each night, tears rolling down his Super Mario Brothers pillow case, failing to find his usual comfort by clutching his Kirby plush close, his mother knocking on the door asking if he's alright.

In the end, I just went and bought diapers, which was probably better for everyone.