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[img width=700 height=697]https://i.imgur.com/9oVY0Ja.jpg[/img]
I never got into arcade collecting to make friends or meet people; quite the opposite actually. As a lifelong introvert and lover (addict?) of solitude, I'd much prefer to make a few clicks on my favorite money-sync websites and wait for my new treasures to arrive in my mailbox, sans interaction. With console game collecting, this approach works great. However, if you were to get into full-sized, real-deal, space sucking arcade game cabinets, things get a little bit more complicated. Taking a quick look on eBay reveals some hard-to-swallow truths for the burgeoning arcade collector. Shipping prices alone for these massive pieces of memorabilia can easily climb to $500 or more, and local pickup options aren't going to be helpful if you live in Nowhere, USA. Where is an arcade addict to turn for their fix?
Enter craigslist and the thrills therein. Every arcade game I own, barring my starter "fake" SNK NEO GEO cabinet, a chance offer from a local friend was found on the magical world of craigslist. Having collected for the arcade cabinet's little brother, the home console, for near two decades now I am no stranger to the strangers of craigslist. Contrary to the horror stories that pervade discussion on local meetup sites, I have never once had a negative interaction with anyone on craigslist. Even for the most introverted of collectors, setting a price, time, and meetup location to pick up a cardboard box of someone's discarded childhood is fairly simple and painless. Public places like gas stations or truckstops provide relatively safe locations to wheel and deal, and being a 6-foot-tall surly-in-looks-only man doesn't hurt. But, what if the object of your neurotic affections is located in that strangers basement? Or deep in the back of a dimly lit garage or barn? Such is the life and times of an arcade collector.
The siren's call of just one more game to build my arcade empire is a seductive one. My first craiglist arcade adventure came with the classic Namco fighting game Tekken 2. I had never played Tekken, nor was I a fan of fighting games, but the one thing I did have was a hunger for a cheap mate to my first cabinet no matter what the title. Messages were sent and arrangements were made. For the low, low price of $360 my faux NEO GEO could have a friend and I could start a bonifide collection. But like any good introvert, the desire for treasure soon began to clash with the terror of meeting a stranger, in THEIR own home no less! What if this game owner was a weirdo? Even worse, what if I was the weirdo? The siren's call could not be silenced, however; yet this gave way to new fears. It was the final hurdle of any arcade collector: logistics.
Arcade games are less collectables and more pieces of furniture with near-antique electronics inside. The monitors themselves can approach 100 pounds of fragile glass and circuitry. The laminated wooden cabinets, even when gutted, are unwieldy and heavy on the best of days. Trying to muscle a fully loaded arcade game without help is a fool's errand. Sourcing an appliance dolly is in your best interest (as well as the interest of your new trophy), and the help of a second fool, er, friend doesn't hurt. Good old dad helped source the dolly but was unavailable in the muscle department. Now that you have your dolly, the logistics further complicate. Are you going to wheel it all the way home on your discount, Harbor Freight friend? Best to leave wheeling arcade games through heavy traffic to George Costanza. What you need is a larger set of wheels, be that a truck or van. Or your wife's SUV with all the seats torn out, pending her approval, of course. Dad came through as dad's do again by lending me his pickup truck for the day with ramps in tow.
So I nervously made my way across town to meet my new friend, as well as its former owner. The owner seemed nice enough, or at least any Buffalo Bill vibes had not come through the fog of email. With much trepidation and hopeful drooling, I pulled up to the rural-ish home down a long road out of town. What met me as I climbed out of the protection of dad's pickup cab chilled me to my introverted core; an extremely personable and affable man approaching middle age. All joking aside, the guy was very friendly and put me at ease immediately. As soon as you show the strangers of craiglist that you are indeed there to purchase and carry away their old junk and not murder them, they are generally more than happy to chat about the arcade hobby. Or at the very least efficiently and quickly get this junk collector out of their home, which works for this introvert. The owner opened up his detached garage and revealed a mancave of wonders; a fully stocked barcade complete with a full bar, arcade games and slot machines! The owner confided that he was parting with Tekken 2 to purchase a Quarter Pusher machine (put quarter in, get quarters out in the rare event you win). I'm still not sure what use such a machine would be in a private arcade for one, but as a fellow collector of weird ephemera, I won't judge. After a quick demonstration of the game and any special instructions (game has xyz quirks, here's the keys, don't feed after midnight, etc.), we loaded the game up on the dolly and safely secured it to the bed of the truck. Slightly shaking from nerves, I happily shook his hand and was on my way. A call was made to a fellow collector friend on what felt like the longest 5 mile drive home ever to help unload and I was in business. The entire ordeal had more or less gone off without a hitch, accidently tearing off the oversized control panel and almost plummeting to my blood-soaked death while unloading the game notwithstanding. The game proudly stood in its (temporary) new home in the dining room for months, much to my wife's chagrin and my great amusement.
I had not gone into this adventure expecting much more than a thinner wallet and a new toy. Yet the start of my collection brought with it new thoughts and questions. How many people had played on this machine? Was it someone's favorite? Where had it spent it's 25 year life? What fun-filled nights with friends or dates had it seen? I cannot think of any other group of items I own that have been touched literally and figuratively in their life than my stable of arcade games. Along with the haunt of the smell of stale cigarette smoke, this new game was also haunted with a little piece of every person who had ever played it.
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