How I Got Grounded From The N64
Days. That’s how long the N64 sat in my freshly acquired step mom’s Ford Explorer. I had packed it in a suitcase when my dad told me we were going to Tennessee. Unbeknownst to me, we were going to Tennessee so my dad could get remarried and I would never have a chance to play Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But now we were back in South Carolina. There was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to play N64. Or so I thought.
The plan was simple enough. Slip out while the others watched movies in the living room, grab all of the suitcases, bring ’em in, and rummage through them until I found the N64. Then I would finally be able to beat the Water Temple. Each phases of the plan went on without a hitch. The suitcases laid in front of me in the foyer of my step mom’s house. Soon I began going through them one by one.
Clothes in the first and second one. Rejoice! The N64 and Ocarina of Time in the third one but wait…I unzipped every compartment of the suitcase. No controller. I went into a frantic. Just more clothes. It was nothing but clothes until I reached a rather heavy suitcase. Perhaps if I wasn’t in such a panic to find the controller I might have taken pause over the oddity of this suitcase. But alas I wasn’t thinking when I unzipped it.
Now a phrase that gets thrown out a lot is “Eat a bag of dicks.” At least in my social circles. If not the case for you, try it sometime. Point it at someone with authority. Your youth pastor perhaps? Anyway, I don’t think people really take in account how unsettling a bag of dicks really is until you’ve unzipped one yourself. And that’s exactly what that suitcase contained.
Dicks. Of every shape, color, and size. Veiny ones. Double-ended ones. The entire suitcase was packed to the brim with marital aids. By the sheer amount this suitcase contained, it could of been airdropped into a impoverished nation and be considered a joint humanitarian effort by the UN. Whatever, the dicks weren’t my concern. I moved onto the next suitcase. I was focused on my goal to play Ocarina of Time and an astronomical amount of dicks wasn’t gonna stop me.
But there was a flaw in this mindset. Distracted by the quest for the N64 controller I was unaware of my surroundings. In the midst of the melee with the suitcases, my little sister had stumbled upon me and the bag of dicks. The poor, innocent child not the slightest idea what they were. Made of the same material of her Barbie dolls I can only assume she thought they were toys. Well they were…but not the kind of toys she thought they were.
It was too late by the time I realized what had happened. I heard a piercing shriek from the other side of the house. I would learn later that my sister had ran triumphantly waving a dick of double-sided variety into the living room where my step mom and step sister were watching movies. I heard my step mom yell “BRUCE!”, my father’s name, and then running.
He would find me red-handed. Or should I say flesh-color-handed? That’s what the color of dicks were any. Without saying anything, he snatched up the bag of dicks and the N64. I wouldn’t see the N64 for quite some time after that. But that’s not what would resonate with me later on life. No, instead that would be the bag of dicks.