Revenge of the Gamer

If you’ve read some of my previous posts you know that I grew up very poor.  I still remember climbing into the back of a moving truck when I was eight to fetch a piggy bank so that we could have dinner that evening.   Many people give me horrified looks when they hear that I had weeds growing through the floor in my room. 

I wouldn’t change that part of my life for anything.  It instilled in me an appreciation and understanding of the value of money.  When you have none everything you own becomes precious.  I learned the value of hard work at a very young age, and that taking care of my possessions was important.  If my bike was stolen or a toy got broken there was no replacing it, because that took money.

Since my parents couldn’t afford to give me an allowance I needed to make my own money.  When I was ten years old I went and got myself a job delivering papers.  Oddly, I never even considered asking my parents before doing it.  I just went out and took the job. 

At first they were against it, but after I made my case they decided to let me keep it.  How could I learn responsibility if I wasn’t given some of my own?  They were forced to agree.

The paper route only paid a few dollars a week, and in hindsight was definitely more trouble than it was worth.  In additon to delivering the papers I had to go door to door collecting money from people, which was pretty intimidating for a ten year old.  It taught me alot.

By the time I was twelve the paper route was no longer paying enough to buy the roleplaying books and dice I wanted.  I knew I needed to make more money, but not too many people will hire a twelve year old so I was left with few options.  Fortunately, I was going through puberty and it afforded me exactly the opportunity I was looking for. 

We had a local bookstore in the shopping center not far from my house.  Every week I was in there buying novels and I remember the place well. I discovered Lord of the Rings, Dragonlance and the Dragonbone Chair in that little store.

I also discovered a rack that held adult magazines, but I knew the guy behind the counter would never let me buy one.  I blame the raging hormones for what happened next.  Since I couldn’t buy the magazines I decided to steal them.

To do this I needed a plan.  I carried a massive sachel over my shoulder that was designed to hold about fifty newspapers, and by the time I got to the bookstore every day it was nearly empty.  I’d walk in and give the guy behind the counter a free newspaper.  He was very grateful and would immediately crack it open.  As soon as that happened he was oblivious to the world around him.

I crept over to the rack and grabbed a fist full of magazines and shoved them in my bag.  He didn’t notice.  Pulling the latest Dragonlance book off the shelf I walked up to the counter bold as you please and paid for my book with the pile of stolen magazines safely stowed in my bag.  The man never noticed.

For a twelve year old a stack of Playboys has a magical quality to them.  At that point in your life you are just discovering the opposite sex, and is really all you think about for the next ten years or so.  I was no exception and I loved my new stash.

I quickly realized I could take a few magazines a month without anyone the wiser, and that’s exactly what I did.  As my collection grew I realized other boys in my class were also going through puberty.  They wanted to see naked women just as badly as I did.

So I brought a stack of these magazines to school, and quietly spread the word through my seventh grade class that I had something special to sell.  Seven or eight boys eagerly coughed up a week’s worth of lunch money for each magazine, and all of a sudden I was pulling in over $50 a week from my ill gotten porn.

I was ecstatic!  Not only was I providing a valuable service to hormonally charged boys, but I was making great money doing it. 

Of course word got around and eventually the girls found out.  Suddenly a lot of glares were shot my way every day, but I didn’t care.  I had money!  Then one of the girls told a teacher, and the next thing I knew I was being dragged out of class to have my locker searched.

The tore it upside down but couldn’t find a single dirty magazine, but as luck would have it I’d already sold my entire stash that day.  They tried to get me to crack and admit to selling them, but my father taught me at a young age never to give up until you are sure you’ve lost.  I kept a stone face said I wasn’t sure what the girl had been talking about and went about my merry way.

Unfortunately while I wasn’t actually caught it did scare away most of my clients, so I had to move on to another scam to earn enough money to buy my novels and roleplaying books.  Still, out of all of them this was certainly my favorite and not just because it was my first!