Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Last night around midnight, on a work night mind you, Miss Ski Boots above me decided to play some music and I'm not talking the lull you to sleep kind. Even through my ear plugs--which I bought for these occasions--I heard the constant thumping of the bass from her speakers vibrating through the ceiling ... and my pillow.
When I finally fell asleep around 1:30ish I had equated the sound with the noise Pac Man makes when he eats a pellet. I ended up dreaming that I was searching for the moving, stomping cherry bonus point, trying not to get killed by Blinky and the other colored ghosts. Instead of being on a PacMan board though I was going back and forth on the Upper East Side grid, well I suppose it could have been the Upper West Side too. My race finally ended when I ran into a friend going into Central Park and my dream changed focus. Maybe my neighbor had decided to finally turn off her stereo and go to sleep. I know, dreams are only interesting to those who had them.
I actually have my own Ms. Pac Man machine. Not in my current tiny studio, but in storage waiting to be played again. It's the sit down cocktail table kind. My father gave me the one he had in his restaurant for my 10th birthday. I remember coming home to it in and seeing it sitting there in the living room of me and my mom's apartment and then all my friends and I playing it. The best thing was that I could enable it to accept quarters or open the coin holder and jimmy the free credit button.
The problem with having one in your apartment though is that it's really loud. I put cardboard over the speakers to help muffle the sound otherwise I couldn't play it in the evening or mornings so that I didn't disturb my neighbors. Over the years as I moved around it has graced my bedroom, a spare room, two basements and a living room. I stupidly covered the sides with large stickers when I was twelve and unfortunately it will look even worse if I attempt to remove them. I guess the ASPCA bumper sticker will have to stay.
The sad thing is that in all the years that I've had the machine, I've only been to level three before losing all my spare guys. My cousin holds the record at reaching board four. In my defense, It's the PacMan game with the extended screen, where you think you reached the end and then it moves to show you more and more dots. It doesn't have those sneaky passages either that let you go to the other side, nope you have to munch your way back and not get killed.
Food for thought: If Ms. Pac Man is supposedly married to Mr. Pac Man and begot a Junior Pac Man even, then why isn't she a Mrs.? Poor grammar usage, where is Lynne Trust?
PS: This is my 200th post!