Yer In My Way, Pokemon Dude

For those of you not familiar with the Pokemon Go! game, it involves a tablet or cellphone with special programs, internet capability, and a screen big enough to get you killed because you can’t pay attention to anything else. Played largely in urban areas, it is thought to be a form of retroactive abortion designed to weed out the geeky and nerdy among our young, and the hopelessly clueless in the soon-to-be-in-a-care-facility crowd.

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I am often told, by scolds of all ilk, that I’m too judgmental. Are they not judging me in telling me this? I may be digressing, but I will judge those playing this “harmless” game. I am reminded, by me, that it’s no different than the Dungeons and Dragons crowd when I was the same age.

My peers at the time will remember the generous heaping of scorn I allocated to that pursuit. I always wondered what was wrong with them that they were smoking weed and playing D&D when they could have been drinking bourbon and playing Trivial Pursuit. Yes, I was a nerd, but a nerd with a grasp of reality. Darkened through some bourbon, but reality all the same. And I could fill a pie in under 20 minutes. Being eidetic has its pluses. Unfortunately, said bourbon consumption made that a historical issue.

So where is this wandering bucket of smoldering hatred going? Why it’s leading to the official rules for playing Pokemon Go! in my presence:

1. Don’t block the sidewalk when I’m on my way to the bus or work. The amount of damage that a bearded, bald, 300 + pound man with large forearms can do to you as he charges down the sidewalk yelling “COMING THROUGH!” is a thing of beauty. Or, quite possibly, ambulances, for the average person staring at their screen waiting for a sorbitalian to appear.

2. Don’t charge me as you pursue a virtual game. Bad things happen if I stop abruptly and you crash into me. Promise you I’m still standing but you have some marks.

3. Don’t drag your three year old past me at a dead run at 2215. I will intervene for that frightened child. You will not like it. The child welfare people won’t be too happy with you when I get done making my statement.

4. Don’t run out into traffic. I know that sounds like a joke, but the number of greasy smears on bumpers is growing. Wednesday night I saw three or four zombie herds cross in front of angry motorists. Not one of them looked up at traffic before sprinting out into the path of oncoming cars. The car will win.

5. Don’t abuse the homeless in your pursuit of virtual prizes. See number 3, modify that just a tad, and combine it with number 1. Seems the game attracts a bit of a nasty crowd who prey on others. Ain’t going to tolerate that one either. I know many of the street people from cooking for them over the years. Friends is what I call them. Don’t mess with my friends.

In conclusion, act like real people. Try to be something other than a moron. I am a moron. I have been a moron for years. But you’re young enough to avoid being a moron. Find another pursuit. Running people down, dragging your toddler through the streets at late hours, and driving around with the phone on the wheel while you ignore your lane and all about you qualifies you as a possible permanent member of that group. I can still change. Can you?

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