Lager and potions

The weekends if we were rich, were always centred around a Saturday night in Edinburgh. Long Ian Botham haircuts, 'Terry of Brookside' 'taches and Don Johnston jackets to die for. Anyone under 30, checkout Vice City and you'll get the picture. We would head to Lothian Road, pretty much lined with Pubs and clubs. Pushing our way to the bar, we'd stand drinking our lager, with the sound of Cutting Crew's Dying in your Arms surrounding us as we drunkenly eyed up the local talent.

Oh how the mighty of pop are fallen so low.

The puggy would fleece us and although my mates thought that Paul had a knack at the gambling. I knew I was better but nobody bar me thought that and that pissed me off because I knew I was better and had quicker reactions. Paul was the unelected leader and there was nothing I could have done. He always got to do the gambling. Leaving the pub, there was always a smell of violence or trouble although me and the guys weren’t ever part of that. Maybe climbing a flagpole or peeing on a Jaguar but never violence. That night we witnessed 6 guys lift a mini and place it in a passageway sideways so there was no fuckin' way the bastard would be able to get the thing out. Just like the forklift bit in Austin Powers.

Paul was a student at Edinburgh Uni' and this gave us an entry to the Student Union. Waiting patiently in the queue, he told us to have a pass on hand to show the old bloke at the door. "I don’t have a pass" I shouted, "Don’t worry, just show your 'Cashline' card!!".........My turn came and I held up my Bank of Scotland card, "In you go" instructed the old geezer, either too blind to notice or totally uninterested to care. Pushing our way thru the crowds of pissheads, we made our way to the 1st floor. It was happy hour and there we were, 5 of us, sitting round a table with about 20 pints on it. I was burping and consciously having to fight throwing up.

We had stupid games that would inevitably involve downing a pint in a oner. Peer pressure wouldn’t allow us to "not" drink or leave a pint but I was clever enough to be able to 'pour' the occasional pint on the floor while no one noticed. I was that blind drunk anyway and to drink any more would have been impossible. We then made our way upstairs to the Video games room, there might have even been a pool table but I couldn’t be sure. My attention was immediately caught by a "Help, Help" followed by a siren and a loud bazooka sound effect then an explosion. It was 'Jail break', my drunkenness seemed to amplify the noise above all the rabble, the garish bright rainbow hues of the screen were like Picasso's sick.

It's a fair point.

Trying my hand, the bastard down the drain took me out every time as I rushed to 'save' the girl. I moved onto Rush'n Attack and got surprisingly far. I liked it; it was very similar to Green Beret on my 64 so I was at home. That too was coloured in by kindergarten infants with little more than 8 colours. I blamed the alcohol but 16 years on Mame has shown me that was how these games were intended.

Paul called me across, he told us that this game was awesome, there’s magic and potions and food.............and 4 could play at once. "Dooroo, Dooroo doo doo, Dooroo Dooroo Doo Doo............ there it was Gauntlet. This game fuckin’ rocked, the graphics were so dark and moody and the sound blew me away....."Elf neeeeds fooood baaahdlaaay, I've never SEEEN such bravery........Valkyre is ABOUT to die" I probably didn’t do too great but having seen this game in action was enough. I then had one of these moments where you just wished you had millions and you could buy one of these and take it home........

Getting home, home being Paul’s one bedroom flat in 'The Meadows' in Edinburgh, a very wealthy area which is popular with Students as Greedy cunt Landlords rent out single rooms at 500 quid a month. I can recall walking past a canal and thinking about jumping in but that little bit of the brain regardless of how pissed you are is able to function and override the stupid thoughts with 'common sense' told me otherwise.

Bed was a floor and a student cover, i.e. smelly and very, very thin which does nothing other than merely cover you. The hard floor compounded with that spinning shit, every time I closed my eyes made sleep impossible.

The Sandman did do his job for a bit, but was hindered when the overriding desire to throw up kicked in. Crouched on a cold floor in winter in a student flat with a pounding head, spinning brain, my head locked in a toilet pan was not pleasant. I was reintroduced to the pasta I'd eaten earlier as well as lunch, breakfast and someone else’s carrots.

Be honest, you'd have vom'd too.

I was somehow able to crawl back thru to my 'bed' and got back to sleep. Next morning we submerged and made our way to a greasy cafe for a fry up. I took the milk option. This was the one and only time I saw Pole Position 2, the movement however, did nothing for my fragile state. On the bus home, we sat at the back. My stomach was practising for the circus taking in back flips, somersaults and fuckin’ twirls. Jesus, I thought!! Picking up an empty bag I saw on the floor I proceeded to barf my lot into the reluctant bag. Tying a knot in the end, I placed it under the seat in front. Suddenly I was feelin' heaps better!! If you were the driver who had to pick up said bag, I apologise now, it was surely better than giving you a bus and 20 angry passengers covered in sick to worry about.

16 years on when I hear the booming effects from Jail break, this night comes spinning back along with the god awful memories of the hangover and drunken debauchery. Its weird but I feel that the sound effects take me back more than the visuals. Graphics date but sound doesn’t, in the same way as smell is one of the best memory reminders. Galaxians 'Peeshd' is a service station on the m1, Commando 'Gunfire rattle' is a service station on the bus trip to Blackpool and Yie Ar Kung Fu 'screams' was the student union at Stevenson College.

87' Hogmanay was spent playing Gauntlet on the 64; it was good but just not good enough. Here today I have every fuckin’ arcade game ever made (almost) at my fingertips, yet Gauntlet always seemed better back then. Times and things change although that fuckin’ Elf still keeps shooting the fuckin’ bastarding food...........................cunt!

MAMEMEISTER, April 2003.

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