Abject and Apoplectic Apologies

So...I have been a shitty blog friend lately. I mean, really shitty. My posts are sporadic, and most of them that don't involve places I've stuck my dick or dead languages feel lifeless, at best. Before this turns into a whine-fest about my current state of affairs (which doesn't really involve affairs, sadly), I'll just plunge into the meat of things.

I recently changed projects at my company. Since I have a pervasive desire to not be Dooced, I don't talk about work much on here. Suffice it to say, however, that switching from one project to another involves a lot of wrapping one thing up and then getting started with another. It's especially fun/frustrating/difficult/awesome when you switch from two totally different areas of research, like say the wholesale slaughter of human parasites to the apocalyptic eradication of cancer. In one, you're targeting a wee beasty; in the other, you're trying to kill Kate Gosselin.

However, that's only part of the issue at play here. There's some stuff going on at home, some behind-the-scenes stuff that's proven to be really taxing--in the grueling manner--and has demanded most of my spare time.

I am, of course, referring to marathons of Civilization IV.

What's that? You've noticed that there's a different Roman Numeral at the end of the name? Good for you. If I had a cookie, I'd give it to you. Well, maybe I'd eat it in your honor.

It's true. I've upgraded to the more recent version of the game (rumors are abounding that a V is close to dropping), which I got for Father's Day. Along with my very large television, which demands my attention like a newborn. A very large, beautiful, high-resolution, illuminated newborn who tells me stories and who doesn't demand hugs, but a newborn nonetheless.

In fact, I bought Civilization IV for myself and handed it to my wife for her to keep until a later date. She said "Father's Day", I was thinking "when I get my latest manuscript finished". She won.

But, this isn't just the latest Civilization game. Oh no. It's the full version of the game along with the three add-on packs that were developed for the game. And all for the low, low price of $9.99.

It's true. I bought four full games of a recent game along with the add-ons for ten bucks. One rainy afternoon, I was tired of being stuck in the house, so I took the kids to see their mother at the bookstore. Along the way, we stopped at Best Buy and just walked around a little bit, looking at stuff. At some point, I'm going to need to add more pieces to the television for a whole package--newborns are needy, you know--and so I was shopping around.

I decided to swing down through the games department just to take a look. I saw the package for the four Civ IV games, and I picked it up to check the price. Imagine my surprise when I saw that it had fallen to $9.99. Awesome. I then checked to make sure it had all the expansion packs on it and found that it had. Score. My lucky day.

We continued through the store, looking at games and movies and such--I ended up buying the kids a Veggie-Tales movie, as well. At the check-out counter, I grabbed a beverage to slake my parched throat.

The kid behind the counter rang my purchases up and then informed me it would be $65.

"Wait," I said, flipping the Civ game over, "is the drink $30?"

"No," the kid responded, "the game is ringing up at $39.99."

"Well, it's listed as being $9.99," I said, tapping the yellow sticker on the front of the game.

Seeing that I wasn't budging from my position atop Mount Cheapskate, the kid called someone else up to help him. He told me that the game was ringing up at $39.99. I again tapped the sticker with my forefinger, this time a bit impatiently, reminding him that the game was listed at $9.99.

Now, it's here that I should point out that I could have afforded the $39.99 version. But, I didn't want to pay that. The game was stickered at $9.99, and that was the price I was going to pay. If it had been Target or somewhere like that, I would have said, "Alright," and shelled out the extra three Hamiltons. However, Best Buy has been a thorn in my motherfucking side for several years now, between their shitty Day-After-Thanksgiving promotions to the people on the floor not knowing what they fuck they are talking about to the assholes shutting down my credit card with them because I dared to pay it off and not buy anything for a whole six months.

So it was with this mindset that I folded my arms across my chest, looked meaningfully down at the $9.99 sticker on the game, and raised an eyebrow. The floor manager sighed, turned to his register, and keyed in the code to change the price. He pulled the yellow sticker off with yet another sigh, told me to have a nice day, and put my stuff in my bag. I nodded, smiled, and was off.

With a guilt-free conscience, I returned home with my booty, knowing that either someone fucked up with the pricing of the game (the Civ III basic package is, perhaps non-coincidentally, $9.99) or someone put the lower price on the game for a friend or family-member to buy cheaply and then give to him. Either way I got my game--and all the bonus games--for the price I wanted to pay.

It makes it that much sweeter when Erwin Rommel is driving legions of Roman tanks through the streets of Berlin, smoking a cigar and laughing as he does so.