Fear and Loathing in Lemonade Lake

Buy the Facebook credits, take the ride

My finger hovered over the Buy button, and I suddenly felt nervous.

This wasn’t your typical case of pre-sale jitters. This wasn’t a second of hesitation where I approximate how much money I have saved up to decide if I can really afford this. This wasn’t a moment where I wondered if my wife would get pissed at me for buying another gadget for her in a vain effort to lure her out of her technophobia. No, this was much worse.

This was Candy Crush Saga.

This game has been the scourge of my Facebook news feed, one unseen since the heyday of Farmville. And I let myself get sucked in because it was free to play on Android. That was the first step down a slippery slope, one that ended in me linking the game to my Facebook account for extra turns and a chance to see my progress relative to my friends’. I had successfully avoided paying for any add-ons in Triple Town; I’d have no problem resisting Candy Crush. I’m not going to be twitching violently waiting to get one more life from this game because work keeps me busy. And yet there I was, about to pay to play.

My finger hovered over the Buy button, and I suddenly felt uneasy.

It’s insidious. The cynic in me feels like the kid-friendly bright colors and music are a fantastic lure that will inevitably lead to one of those “My Kid Charged $1000 To My Credit Card” stories that pops up every so often. The levels seem to be arranged in such a way that you get a little bit of momentum by finishing two or three boards with relative ease, then hit a brick wall for a few days. As of this writing, for me that’s level 70. It’ll probably still be level 70 when this gets published, when the Stanley Cup Final is over, when autumn comes… And every time you hit one of these brick wall levels it always feels like you’re one or two moves away from clearing the board. So what if it’s a dollar to buy 5 more moves if it’ll get me out of this saccharine rut?

My finger hovered over the Buy button, and I suddenly felt weak.

Is this what I have become? I mean, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever considered an in-app purchase for a game. I gladly bought double coins in Jetpack Joyride to encourage Halfbrick to continue developing for Android. I bought several Mr. Accessories in Kingdom of Loathing, since it was clear that all the money went to the developers themselves. But this is different. I’m sure King is going to get its cut regardless of where I buy my add-ons from, but do I want to give my credit card information to Facebook? Do I really want to start buying add-ons from Google, who already has my credit card info and thus makes impulse purchases easier? Is this the first step towards a dark path that leaves me sitting outside a Starbucks, sponging off their WiFi, with a crudely drawn “WILL WORK FOR COCONUT WHEELS” sign in my lap?

My finger hovered over the Close button, and I suddenly felt better.

Stronger.

Empowered.

I had, at least for now, resisted the urge. I kept myself out of the rabbit hole with my pride, sanity, and bank accounts intact. Of course, as it turns out, Facebook offers a free promotion that nets you all of 30 cents worth of premium items, but it’s probably just enough to get me past Level 70. Just enough to get you hooked. The first one’s free. And you’ll feel better after you’ve used it.

This is hardly the worst example one can give of video game addiction. But it’s all too common. As I mentioned earlier, this game has been the scourge of my Facebook news feed. At least a dozen of my friends have posted some sort of Candy Crush related status update in the last month. All of them will eventually walk away from the game, because that always happens. None of them are clinically addicted to the game, and none of them will fall so far that their lives suffer. But until then, they will all sit in front of their computers, on their phones or tablets, cursing their fate until that purple candy drops from the top of the screen to make them feel better, if only for a minute, until they need another fix.

Sometimes the brightest lights create the darkest shadows.