MY BATTLE WITH VGA

By: B -- 3/6/05

It’s finally happened.

Nearly three months after receiving Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas for Christmas, I’ve finally removed the cellophane and begun playing. The Video Game Addiction (VGA) has again reared its ugly head and taken a death-grip around my neck; so if you don’t hear from me for a few months, you now know why.

There are no games on the market that trigger VGA as quickly as Grand Theft Auto. For most guys in my generation, it’s as close to crack as we’re going to get. I was not aware of this when I first bought GTA: Vice City (the predecessor to San Andreas). Sure I had dabbled in video gaming before, even skipped a few classes Freshman year in order to master PS1’s Driver. But Vice City, the greatest video game of all time? I never stood a chance.

A week after my first time playing Vice City, the VGA had taken hold. I didn’t shower, shave, exercise or even sleep until absolutely necessary. My college roommate Teaspoon and I would rotate from Driver to Navigator, both roles equal in importance and necessary for success. We didn’t take breaks. The Navigator would order food or hit the bathroom while a scene was loading, and there was occasional game pause so the Driver could wipe his deservedly-sweaty brow, but otherwise we were dialed in. No answering the phone, no trips to the library, no visits from our girlfriends, no small talk with other roommates – no distractions allowed. The consequences were too great to allow for any diversions from the task at hand.

At the depths of my VGA, I once sat on my couch for 14 straight hours – from 2 PM until 4 AM – playing Vice City. In those 14 hours I skipped a study group, baseball practice, work and a three-hour night class. I drank six Cokes and ate a half a pizza and half a bag of chips. I could actually feel myself gaining weight. I was in a dark, dark place that I don’t wish upon my sworn enemies.

I am not telling you this because I am proud of my actions; I am simply describing the life of a person suffering from VGA. I watched parties, exams, movie releases, birthdays, dates and actual friendships disappear before my very eyes, unable to do anything but crack open a Coke and loosen my belt another notch.

Luckily, Spoon proved to be the better gamer and I was slowly squeezed out of the equation altogether.

But with San Andreas the vicious cycle has started again, and this time Spoon is 125 miles away, unable to save me. I’ve got a wireless controller, a case of Diet Dr. Pepper, an open calendar and elastic-waistband pants.

I’ll see you in June.

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