You could have a hell of a lot of fun for a pound when I was a kid. You could buy enough Freddos to induce a mild coma. You could take advantage of the 5 year old me renting out my ‘husband’, Phillip Hodgekiss, for the whole of lunchtime. Or you could have 5-10 goes on a ticket-shitting arcade machine.

These machines were the backbone of my holidays in Ingoldmells, Scarborough or similar. I would pester my parents for up to 24 hours a day, and eventually manage to get enough loose change to be able to wander round, honing my skills at ball throwing, thing hitting and general gambling. This tour of the machines would last about three minutes, because I would inevitably lose at everything due to being a stupid uncoordinated kid.

On the occasions I did win at these games (about once a year), I’d be rewarded with tickets. These would then be exchanged for things like one fake rubber finger, and a pencil sharpener with ‘Five Star’ written on it. What more could you want?

Cosmo Gang

Continue reading “A tribute to seaside arcade machines” →

One time, I tried to hit my boyfriend with a pan. This only happened in my imagination, but it was a close thing. The reason for this imaginary rage fart was that my boyfriend had won three games of Guess Who in a row.

I realise this might say more about me than it does about the inherent unfairness of a children’s board game. But that didn’t stop me accusing him of shenanigans and bollocks, then retreating to a corner of the room to cry and eat Kitkats.

I’m not sure board games are aimed at me.

Let’s think about board games for a minute. Someone sat down and said “Hey I know, let’s invent a pastime that makes families kill each other!” Someone else maybe offered him a Wagon Wheel and said “Great idea Jim!” Continue reading “Board games and how to win at them” →