One of my girfriend and my favourite things to do is argue, and prove pointlessly that one of us is better than the other. Of course, she wins in most areas – looks, personality, etc, whereas I can park a car without bursting into tears.

When Family Games Night 3 on the Xbox burst into our living room, we were ready to take each other on to find out who is going to have the best life. We fought this out via the medium of The Game Of Life. I’m writing in normal text, while my girlfriend has the slanty italic text. You can skip over her bits, she’s just cruel about me.

We spin the control pad stick to see who goes first – an over enthusiastic spin leaves it turning for nearly half an hour. I take a college career, leaving me $100,000 in debt from the off. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT, CAMERON? IS IT? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

I chose a career minus the college. By the end of my turn, I’m a singer, I’ve got $100,000 in the bank and I’m married. Higher education can kiss my grits.

While she enjoys her first dance with her husband, performed to a confusing button-matching game. I give her $10,000 as a wedding present, which is just fine. I mean, I’m only $100,000 in debt already, and she’s performing on The X Factor, but sure, take my blood money, you bitch.

After I spin the wheel about seventeen times, gaining many points, dollars and a husband, my turn finally ends. So far playing this game is only serving to throw my own failures at life into sharp relief.

After an arduous journey through college, I graduate and wind up as a doctor, earning twice as much as the singer over there. She’s a regular Steve Brookstein: started out so promising, but now she’s playing the pubs and clubs. I’m not bitter, as I pay off my student loan with my first paypacket. Just like real life!

Oh please, I just got a $10,000 pay rise, bought a starter home AND I’m about to have children. Excuse me while I press some buttons on a control pad to decide exactly how many human beings I’ll be virtually shoving out of my special place. “CONGRATULATIONS!” the screen sycophantically announces. I have received one child.

Aha, he’s married now, I get to watch him botch the first dance worse than I did. Or maybe not as badly, since he’s actually almost figured out what you’re supposed to do. It’s a test of both memory and hand-eye co-ordination. Oh, he seems to have done a lot better than me. 23 points?! I only got nine. SADFACE.

And so it continues, competitively, with money changing hands, and laughter at each other’s poor life decisions. I get sacked as a doctor, and decide to try my luck making it as an athlete. I don’t know what I did wrong to get fired – probably screwed up the vasectomy on my girlfriend’s husband: She’s up to four kids now, while I’m barren – the boys just can’t swim.

There’s all sorts going on, now – I got a payrise and a return from a long-term investment. I’m in the money! When offered the chance to “Go back to school”, it’s declined immediately. My superstar singing career is heading skywards. “HAVE MORE KIDS!” screams the XBox. Oh wait, there’s not enough room in the car for them, so I can’t. If only people in real life took this sort of approach to family planning.

She sues me. She bloody sues me. It was the vasectomy, after all. I “argue”, by getting a blister hammering the control stick, and pay her $20,000. Life sucks. I counter-sue, and she pays me $20,000. Easy come, easy go.

Even just spinning the spinner (the official terminology) is a world of excitement. It’s like being on Wheel Of Fortune. God, I always wanted to go on Wheel of Fortune. Not to be molested by John Leslie – well, not JUST for that – but to spin the bloody great wheel. This is the closest I’ll get, though, so I’d better milk as much joy out of it as I can. YAY SPINNER SPINNINGNESS WOOHOO YEAH. SPIN.

Fired, again. Get a job as a used car salesman. I used to have it all, man. I used to have it all. Now look at me. A washed up failed doctor, failed athlete. Flogging dangerous cars. Arguing with my wife about whose fault it is we don’t have kids. This isn’t living.

I’m not sure how I’m managing being a singing superstar, winning TV talent contests and litigating left, right and centre while taking care of my four children. This virtual husband of mine must have a right miserable life. But my life is brilliant! Now back to waggling (yes, waggling) the control stick to win a court case. See, brilliant.

She’s buying a second home to house all her kids AND have a room that’s filled with pound coins. I’m sleeping in the back of my SUV and developing a drink problem. Everything’s alright, though: MY BOYS CAN SWIM! Three of them, bloody triplets. I just wanted to prove that everything was alright down there, and now we’ve got three extra mouths to feed.

Ooh, I’m taking the risky path of life! It’ll be like Hollyoaks, hopefully, with loads of death and students and rubbish sets. But no, I sweep along the path unscathed and then redecorate my home at the end of it. I wanted Hollyoaks, not Changing bloody Rooms. And I’m £80,000 out of pocket too. This is bullshit.

Now I’m being sued again. You know that waggling thing that I dubbed “brilliant” earlier? Yeah, it’s fucking horrific, painful, stressful and not really worth saving $80,000 in virtual money. But I’m a competitive soul and I will endure it. Just this one last time. Then I’m giving up.

I buy a second house, for $800,000. It’s only 30 years’ salary. I reclaim some of it by suing repeatedly. I’m not sure what for, probably going back every year to reclaim the loss of earnings from when I was a doctor.

I’m ordered to do that waggling thing again, but I give up, true to my word. I have to pay the bastard $100,000, but since I’m earning more than Wayne Rooney, what do I care? I retire to the Millionaire’s Mansion (or some such exclusive-sounding fantasy location) and sit, counting my coins in contentment.

Like the professional idiot that I am, I blow all my money on a gambling mini-game. I become a grandparent, and give my grandchildren nothing but disappointment and fear. I may have no money, but I’m happy, and isn’t that the important thing? No, no it’s not. I wish I had money. As soon as I get paid, I blow the lot on a family website. $50,000! If only I’d heard of Geocities.

I retire, and through my kids and various mad investments, I’m a millionaire. She wins though, with $1.3m. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the boardroom, and somebody WILL be fired.

Comments

1. Wardy says:

   November 9, 2010 at 10:40 am

   I used to frigging love the Game of Life. And the technical term is definitely Spin(ning) the Spinner
2. ivett says:

   October 7, 2011 at 3:00 am

   I like.

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