Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: a brash young man gradually mellows over the years, gains perspective on life’s annoyances, and begins to respond to setbacks in a more measured, thoughtful way. At some point, I realized I was this walking stereotype. The things that annoyed me in years past had gradually become easier to take in stride. I can’t do anything about a traffic jam. The old lady at the grocery store who insists on paying for two apples with a personal check will finish when she’s finished. A single bad day at work isn’t a sign that I should abandon all my earthly possessions and become a monk. Life is a marathon, and patience is the key to winning.
However, this general mellowing hasn’t completely extended to my attitude towards games. In fact, it’s often the opposite. I find myself increasingly impatient with games. I tell myself that I don’t have the time to invest in a 50 hour RPG. I don’t like being asked to slog through a long manual or parse obscure game mechanics. Long cutscenes? Widely-spaced checkpoints? Load times? I don’t have time for any of that, or so I think.