In Which an Irrational Fear is Made Rational (This Post Has Nothing to Do With Bunnies, Just So You Know)

Oh galleons, this morning the great and terrible Xbox gods decided to play a most distressing trick upon me, their humble devotee. I stumble in the door from work, exhausted, frustrated, needing a sword-and-sorcery fix like some people need coffee or crack. I turn on my Xbox, wander into the bathroom, and take my contacts out… only to return to the living room to find my screen sporting a message about a disc read error.

What fresh hell is this?!

For those of you who are unaware of my previous Xbox escapades (Xcapades, if you will), I have owned a total of three 360s now. My first was unceremoniously stolen while on loan to a friend. The second suffered a hideous, drawn out death last year that culminated in the dreaded Red Ring of Death. And the first symptom that Xbox the second was going tits up? A disc reading issue.

So, when I walk into the room this morning and find that message on my screen, my blood goes fucking glacial. Not again. You have got to be fucking kidding me. This system is less than a year old, for fuck’s sake.

Then there was a bit where I dash over to the Xbox, muttering “No, no, no,” under my breath like some kind of healing mantra. I’m stroking the thing, caressing it, whispering sweet nothings and pleas as I eject the Dragon Age 2 disc inside it. A cursory glance at the disc reveals nothing, and it had been running just fine the day before, so why on Earth would there be anything wrong with it? No, this was the Xbox. It has to be. My truly terrible luck with technology has struck again.

I ease the DA2 disc back into the Xbox, practically begging the system to work. There is nothing more pathetic than a gamer on their knees in front of their system, all but praying for it to work.

The disc spins.

Nothing happens.

I can feel that bubble of despair/frustration/terror welling up in me. My Xbox is my de-stressing device, my primary source of entertainment, my geeky life’s blood. I can’t be without it again. I just can’t.

The rational side of my brain kicks in slowly, fighting its way to the surface through the sludge of my sadness.

Try a different game, it says. Listlessly, I comply.

The disc spins.

And the game starts right up. No problem at all.

At this point, I’m staring at my system, slack-jawed. What miracle is this? What divine blessing has been bestowed upon my poor console? I take out this disc and insert another.

Another successful read. That must mean…

I examine the DA2 disc closer. From the very center of the disc spreading out to halfway to the center is a very fine crack. Not a scratch, a fucking crack. No wonder the game couldn’t be read- I’m surprised my system managed to read it yesterday.

I’ve always hated the cases DVDs and video games come in. You have to apply just enough pressure to get some of the discs out of their cases that the disc itself bends a bit. I have had a long-held fear I’m going to snap a disc in half with my mannish hands and freakish strength one day.

Turns out my irrational fear was less irrational than I thought. I must have cracked that disc removing it from its stupid case yesterday.

Leave it to She-Ra, right?

Anyway, after a quick trip to the store to purchase a new copy of the game, I am once more on track to make my sarcastic, bearded rogue sex up the broody, tattooed elf with the leg-weakening baritone. Oh yes, this is going to happen:

It can be a lot to take in, I know.

Hur hur.

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