NEVER Mess With A Nerd’s Nerd Stuff!

I am a gamer and a firm believer that something not being new doesn’t mean it’s bad. I bought a secondhand PlayStation 3 several years after the PS4 came out due to a lack of backwards-compatibility, I bought a WiiU the day the Switch came out because I hadn’t gotten a WiiU yet, and I still regularly play games for the PSP, Game Boy Advance, and GameCube. I have not gone a year without playing a game for each of these consoles for at least a week. Combine that with the fact that I DO enjoy new games, and… well, I now have a closet dedicated to storing my consoles when they’re not in use, so the TV stand and my bedside table don’t get crowded.

I say “now” because I didn’t at the time of this story; I had most of my home consoles sitting next to each other below the TV, switching out cords whenever I wanted to play something on a different system than the last, and all of my handhelds were scattered atop or in the drawer of my bedside table. When I decided to move in with my girlfriend, I had a giant storage bin dedicated to storing my consoles and another one that was holding all my games.

This game-hoarding (and I use the term facetiously) got me out of a bad relationship much sooner than I probably would have otherwise.

After we moved in together, [Girlfriend] started giving me “advice” (read: telling me and not letting me say no) about how I should dress and what I should or should not eat, that I should get more exercise and play fewer games, etcetera. This SHOULD have been a red flag, but in past-me’s defense, I am the exact opposite of fashion-minded, and I know my physique is not great; I didn’t put up much of a fight against her decisions. I got a LOT of compliments at work about how my wardrobe had stopped featuring blacks and greys, which probably gave me the idea that her advice was sound.

That is until I return home one day and find all my gaming stuff missing — my home consoles, my handhelds, all my games, and even a pair of headphones with an attached mic.

[Girlfriend] gets home shortly after I’m done turning the house upside-down looking for everything.

Girlfriend: “Hey, [My Name]! You’re back already?”

I’m somewhere between terrified and furious and really hoping this is a misunderstanding of some sort.

Me: “[Girlfriend]. Where. Are. My. Games?”

Girlfriend: “Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped playing video games? I donated them to [Secondhand Gaming Store]. Come on, why don’t we do something together?”

“Donated”?! So, not only did she get rid of all my stuff without permission, but she didn’t even get any money from it?

I don’t even respond to her questions. I walk out the door, ignore her asking me what I’m doing, get in my car, and drive to [Secondhand Gaming Store]. I go there regularly to check out their selection of no-longer-sold-new, and there’s rarely anyone else there; fortuitously, there is no one there today, either. Even more fortuitously, the clerk behind the counter is the guy who has processed 75% of my transactions at this place. He recognizes me when I get there.

Clerk: “Hey, [My Name], come here!”

Me: “Not now, [Clerk], I need to know—”

Clerk: “No, seriously, dude, come back here.”

My anger is starting to lose out to my terror at this point, but [Clerk] asking me to come behind the counter catches me by surprise. I come around the counter… and a familiar pair of storage bins are sitting there, open to reveal all my consoles sitting there in what looks like good condition.

Me: “Thank every f****** god in the Source, you still have them.”

Clerk: “‘Still have them’? Dude, no way was I going to let anything happen to them.”

I tell him what I found when I got home, and he tells me his side of the story.

[Girlfriend] parked her car in the nearest space to the door, carried my bins inside one at a time, and pushed the stack toward the counter. She asked [Clerk] what he could give her for my console collection and my giant pile of games. A red flag went off in [Clerk]’s head: who abruptly decides to sell five different home consoles AND four different handhelds all at once? Especially a PS4, in a year when the PS5 hasn’t even been announced. Combine that with [Clerk] knowing which consoles I buy games for, and he had his suspicions.

The standard procedure when you trade in a game or console to a competent secondhand dealer is that the dealer has to make sure the thing works. This gave [Clerk] a good excuse to see whether this stuff belonged to who he thought it did or this was some freak coincidence with someone off their rocker.

Since turning on a handheld is a faster job than plugging in a home console, he grabbed my Switch and hit the power button, and the screen lit up. When he got to the home screen, he found my account, the username of which uses a variation of my real name. He opened up the eShop and turned it toward [Girlfriend].

Clerk: “Excuse me, miss, could you do me a favour and log into this for me?”

Girlfriend: “Why? Can’t you just get rid of it before you sell it? He’s not going to use it anymore, anyway.”

Yes, she made it clear that these were not her things that she was trying to pawn off to him. [Clerk] refused to buy anything unless she brought the owner in with her, to which [Girlfriend] angrily demanded that he stop complaining and just take the goods from her. Eventually, [Girlfriend] got fed up with the argument.

Girlfriend: “Fine! Take them for free, then! I’m just trying to get rid of a bunch of stuff he doesn’t use! If you’re not gonna pay me for his stuff, that’s your fault!”

Yes, [Clerk] stressed, she did in fact say, “…pay me for his stuff…”

I thank [Clerk] and the Twelve about a hundred times each while I check my stuff for visible damage and find none. [Clerk] helps me carry my stuff back out to my car, and I call a friend, who agrees to let me crash at his place for a while. I take the gaming stuff to him first and then drive back to [Girlfriend]’s place and give her seven hells while I collect everything I own that will fit in my car.

Girlfriend: “Get back in here! Get rid of all that gaming junk, get back here, and apologize!”

Me: “I’ve got a better idea. How about you stop trying to decide what I’m allowed to enjoy and how I spend my free time, and I don’t treat you like a selfish b**** who cares about no one but herself?”

I would like to say that [Girlfriend] screamed at me because she’s human and a loud wordless vocalization by a human is usually described as a scream. But [Girlfriend] has a fairly low-pitched voice, and it genuinely sounded more like a roar. I turned around, got into my car, and drove away.

[Clerk], thank you again; I owe you big time. And [Girlfriend], f*** you with a greatsword.