Page 58 - OSG Presents Classic Gamer Magazine #4

sure what to do with
us. “Well,” she
would sigh to her
friends, “at least
they’re not con-
By
Chris Lion
By Chris Lion stantly playing that
damn “Love is a Bat-
tlefield” song like the
I I I I utes after the final, except for a few kids next door.” While shopping, she
arrived home from my first year
choice curse words and three ways
was never sure if Hans wanted
of college to find my mother had to insult someone’s mother. something or was just pointing to it.
sponsored a foreign exchange stu- Hans immediately grasped the So, after every trip to the grocery
dent. “I thought it would be nice to idea of Pac-Man and we spent the store, we came back with Pac-Man
have some noise around the house,” next few hours shouting and yelling Cereal, Pac-Man ice cream, and tons
she said during a commercial in her in our native tongues, totally under- of other Pac-Man related items.
soap. “You left and it was so quiet.” standing each other. “Daß blauer We were in full Pac-Man fever
“Has it helped?” I asked. dummkopf Sie beendet haben sollte. mode. We sang “Pac-Man Fever” at
“Not really—he doesn’t speak a word Sie sind glücklich in der Tat!” Hans the top of our lungs (“I'm gonna fake
of English. I put him in your room.” would shout. I could not understand it to the left/And move to the
I greeted the invader of right/'Cause Pokey's too
my room with trepidation. slow/And Blinky's out of
“Hi,” I muttered. “I’m Chris.” sight”), we ate Pac-Man
He looked up from one of candy, slept on Pac-Man
my issues of “Blip!” to glare sheets, had Pac-Man shoe
at me disinterestedly and horns, and Hans was just
return to his equally disin- skinny enough to be able to
terested staring at the wear Pac-Man underwear.
magazine. At the end of the sum-
I cleared my throat and mer, I had to go back to
tried again. “Chris,” I said school and Hans had to go
loudly, hoping that by back to Germany. I saw him
speaking loudly it would off, waved goodbye, and
get him to understand. watched him board his plane
While my shouting was wearing his Pac-Man shirt,
clear, his understanding was not. how I could yell at him in perfectly Pac-Man running shorts, yellow Pac-
I decided to go slower and understandable English, but every Man shaped hat, carrying his Blinky
LOUDER. Finally, after repeating it time he opened his mouth, gibberish shaped back-pack. On anyone else,
about 15 times, he sighed and said, came out. it might have looked silly, but Hans
“Ja, ja bin ich Hans.” Hans? His Over the course of the next few somehow made the look work.
name was Hans? All I could think of weeks, Hans and I developed a com- That final farewell was a bit teary
was, “what, they only have one name plete understanding of each other. for me. We’d become close friends,
there?” When we wanted to go to Roxy’s we joined by the combined marketing
After about 40 minutes of mind yelled, “Pac-Man!” If I yelled, “Pac- departments of no less than 748 ma-
numbing silence, I decided to go to Man,” excitedly and repeatedly, it jor (and 324 minor) international con-
Roxy’s and play with her Atari. We meant I was about to get killed. If I glomerates. His final words touched
still did not have a video game sys- said, “Pac-Man” slowly, it meant my me deeply. He looked into my eyes
tem… (my parent’s were SO turn was over. Shouted angrily in a and said, softly, “Pac- Man.”
1970s—and this was 1983.) heavy German accent meant that I never saw Hans again. And I
Roxy had taken French in high “the little pink ghost was toast.” Or think of him often… okay, that’s a lie,
school, so I thought with Germany something like that. I hardly ever think about him. But
invading France so many times, We were pretty quiet otherwise. whenever I go to a really old pizza
maybe they could somehow commu- Our communication was strictly parlor and they have an old cocktail
nicate. Or, at the very least, they through the words “Pac-Man” version of Pac-Man sitting in the cor-
would fight. Either way, the silence (except, when Roxy would chime in ner, I stop and think of my gibberish
would be broken. with the occasional “merde”). It went shouting German friend and how a
We found Roxy in front of her on that way through most of the sum- marketing department helped us
Atari playing Pac-Man. “Pac-Man!” I mer. He was too lazy to learn Eng- communicate.
shouted. “I love this game.” Hans lish; I, too lazy to teach it. Hans, buddy, I don’t know what-
looked on pretending to understand. Thankfully, the wonderful market- ever became of you (and I don’t
I pretended to believe him. Détente! ing department of Namco had dedi- really care all that much, either), but I
We sat down and I proceeded to cated the summer to Pac-Man. And just want to say, from the bottom of
help Hans understand how to play on those rare occasions that Hans my heart, Pac- Man, my friend.
the game, by yelling loudly in Eng- and I were not at Roxy’s playing Pac- Pac-Man.
lish. Roxy was no help, because all Man, we were out spotting the pleth-
of her French was forgotten 7 min- ora of Pac-Man related merchandise.
My poor mother was never quite
Classic Gamer Magazine Summer 2000 58