Tragically, somebody has stolen Mario Kart 64 from my dorm room. This is easily the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I have spent the last four days trying to track down the criminal mastermind who could have done such a thing. So far I’ve narrowed the list down to the following people: everybody except myself. And sometimes late at night, I lay in my bed and I wonder if it was possible that I could have taken it after all. Because who’s to say that, in a fevered moment of panic, I couldn’t have destroyed Mario Kart on my own in a violent effort to sabotage my chances at ever living a happy life? I mean, how well do I even know myself?
Some might say that video games are a waste of time, but Mario Kart was enjoyed by everybody in the entire dorm. It brought together people of different genders, different races and different ethnicities (except the Turkish people, who weren’t allowed to play from day one). Through collecting nonsensical treasures in bizarre landscapes and then shooting them at other people, Mario Kart taught us that, underneath, we were all the same after all. It also taught us the meaning of Christmas and the true value of friendship, and that true love couldn’t be bought or sold. Finally, it taught us the true meaning of Hanukkah, which had something to do with candles if memory serves me correctly.
Living in a dorm without Mario Kart is a lot like living in a world without kittens. Sure, sure, it’s not necessary to have them around, but it sure as hell couldn’t hurt. Mario Kart and kittens are a few of my favorite things.
Incidentally, I’d like to give a special shout out to Miss Vanessa Kensington, who stormed into my dorm room one night at two in the morning and argued with my Ecuadorian roommate for about fifteen minutes in a fit of drunken delirium. That was definitely great and hilarious. Thanks for reading, fellow Marion forum member! Stay cool.