Billy Tense, The Game, And Departure It should be pretty obvious to even the most casual reader of this site that I'm a bit of a dork. Ok, I'm a huge dork. Part of my obligation as a dork is to maintain a mystical love-hate relationship with pinball. A relationship, it so happens, that I share with my friend Bill. A relationship which breads fierce, dorky, competition. Two men put in quarters but only one walks away with their initials in the top spot as grand champion. I was the first to achieve that noble goal. I was the first to climb to even greater heights of achievement and push myself into the realm of the untouchable. Untouchable, that is, until Saturday. With nothing better to do and it being hours away from a respectable time for Bill to fall off his stool, the games began. We sucked. Sucked mighty hard. Things were punched, anger management was attempted, laps of shame were run. Then, seemingly out of nowhere (which is how it always seems to happen) Bill had The Ball (editor's note: most hilarious inside joke ever). Everything began to go his way. Shots were made with ease. All the bounces went his way. Extra balls were racked up like Mormon's stocking up on pudding for the rapture. The mood was tense, silent, and incredibly geeky as Bill moved in for the kill. The massive multi-ball where the strong are separated from the weak. That perfect moment where you find out if all those years of social awkwardness and isolation will pay off. I moved away slightly from the machine in order to minimize my distraction, though I know he could see me out of the corner of his eye. Chewing on my thumb, wincing ever so slightly when a dangerous shot was recovered, watching the points climb higher and higher. Waiting for the moment of my own destruction. I was doing all the being excited for the both of us. When his last multi-ball drained we sat in silence for a moment. "Holy shit." He obliterated my score and couldn't have been happier. You see, this isn't really about the pinball or how pathetic the two of are. "I've got three days to you beat your score.", Bill proclaimed at the inception of our games. Because he's leaving. Moving back East for greener pastures where he can actually stand a chance of doing the one thing that he really wants to do in life. It's an admirable goal, but it's always sad to see friends go. You and your delightful stories of trying to break down your own door at 3am will be missed my friend. I'll have a two dollar bill waiting for you in May, and remember...Life ain't nothin' but The Chicken Song and Vitamin J.
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