Okay no. This shit is so fucking satisfying. I can not tell you the joy it brings me when an underage kid tries to buy GTA and when I tell them they need a parent, they go get said parent, and then I say “hey, this game is rated M for these reasons” AND THE PARENTS GET SO APPALLED AND SAY “NO WAY YOU ARE NOT GETTING THAT GAME.” And the look of hatred the kids give me is so raw and pure it gives me fucking life. Damn I miss GameStop.
Keeping online matches safe from annoying 13 year olds.
OKAY FRIENDS SINCE YOU LIKE HEARING ABOUT 13 YEAR OLDS GETTING OWNED LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT ONE OF MY GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS SO FAR AS AN EMPLOYEE OF GAMESTOP.
It was spring 2014, early in the week. Pretty sure it was a Tuesday, but it’s been awhile. It was so dead in our store, I hadn’t seen anyone in over 40 minutes. Eventually, in comes this mom and we start chatting. She said she was here to buy her son a game he wanted, Grand Theft Auto 5, and could I help her find it?
Now, I’m sure many of you are aware how awful Grand Theft Auto 5 is in terms of violence, gore, and sexism. But in case you don’t, the Grand Theft Auto series has always been one of the most violent series that you can buy in stores. The very first GTA was banned in Brazil and condemned in several countries, GTA 5 has a graphic torture scene that is player initiated. GTA: San Andreas had the Hot Coffee scandal which happened in 2004 when modders found unused code in the game for a sex minigame that was player controlled. And that’s only the beginning of the controversies surrounding the GTA series (click here to read more! X X X X X X X )
Anyways, back to me and the Mom. Who will now be referred to as Mom because she is that awesome. Since I was behind the counter I pulled a copy of GTA 5 from backstock and started ringing her up while making polite chitchat, the usual cashier stuff. But everything changed when I asked for her ID because of the M rating. At first Mom replied, “Oh sure thing let me grab it.” And started digging in her purse. But then what I said registered with her and she paused and looked at me.
“M rating? What does that mean?”
“Oh GTA 5 is rated M for violence, gore, bad language, and other stuff”. I won’t bore you with the whole spiel I go into when I’m asked about the M rating but basically I just explain why the game is rated M, what the M rating means, and that they can go on ESRB.org to see why it got that rating.
So I tell Mom about the website and she whips out her cell phone and gets on the site and starts reading. And she got MAD. She starts telling me about how her son knows she doesn’t like this sort of game and how he is going to be in so much trouble because he knows better than to ask for this sort of thing as she doesn’t tolerate this in her house. And he is so grounded for thinking he could get away with this. Then, Mom looked me in the eye and asked me to look up several other games for her to see if he’d done this with any other games.
“Yea sure thing, which games would you like me to look up?”
“Bioshock 2.”
“I can already tell you without looking that Bioshock 2 is rated M.”
“MY CHILD IS SO GROUNDED FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR. What about the first Bioshock?”
“Yep, that’s also rated M.”
“OH MY GOSH, what about Gears of War?”
“That entire series is rated M.”
To spare y’all from another 10 rounds of that, basically take every popular M rated title from the last 5 years and insert them in the above dialogue.
Eventually, Mom says “Oh my gosh, you must think me a horrible parent. I can’t believe I let him have those games.”
“Ma’am, I don’t think that at all. The fact that you’re concerned about this tells me that you are a good parent. And just so you know instead of throwing out those games you’re more than welcome to trade them in here and get some store credit or cash back for them.”
“Really? I’ll have to do that, I don’t want him playing those games anymore.”
“Yea, we also take gaming consoles, iphones, and tablets too!”
“Oh that’s wonderful! Thank you for being so patient with me and telling me all about this. I’m going home and to go through his gaming collection right now!”
And off she went, leaving me bored till I finally got to leave for the night.
BUT THAT’S NOT THE END. THIS IS WHEN SHIT GETS AWESOME.
The next day I’m working again, bored out of my goddamn mind. There’s only so many times you can alphabetize the store before going insane. As I’m looking out the window I see a car pull up and Mom hops out and then pulls out two huge duffel bags and walks in.
“Hey welcome back to Gamestop! What can I help you with!”
“Oh I’m so glad you’re here! So last night I went through my son’s game collection and most of them are rated M! So I decided to teach him a lesson about why you don’t lie to your mother. Seeing as I bought him these consoles and most of the games were bought with my money, his game consoles and games actually belong to me. Therefore, I would like to trade in all this." And proceeds to pull out his XBox 360, PS3, and every game he had for both consoles (over 50!) as well all the extra controllers and headsets he had.
"Are you sure?”
“Absolutely." I will never forget her smile when she said this nor the look in her eye. This is not a woman to be crossed.
So I traded everything in and she got back over $300 in store credit for everything. And with it she bought a Wii, a couple extra controllers, and a couple games rated E. Then she looked me in the eye and asked if we had any extra boxes laying around for the XBox One and if so could she have one?
"Are you going to put the Wii in it and give it to him?"
"Yes. Along with a note saying that this is what happens when you abuse the trust of your mother. I’m going to make sure this never happens again." It is at this point that Mom ascended to God Tier status with all Gamestop employees falling to their knees for a chance to bask in her glory.
I got her an XBox One box and sent her on her way after asking her to take the survey on the receipt.
"Oh of course dear, you’ve been such a big help. Let me write down your name so I don’t forget it.”
“Of course! I’m Lexi, but if your son asks my name is Deegan." (Deegan was my store’s manager at the time.
And then she left, leaving me with the best trade numbers of the month and the greatest story I’ll likely ever be apart of at GameStop. Mom, I never got your name, but you are my personal Gamestop Hero.
It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.
Not all men.
I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.
Not all men.
Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.
Not all men.
Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.
Not all men.
Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:
“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…
Not all men.
Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:
-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a strangerI break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?
Not all men.
It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.
I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.
Not.
All.
Men.
a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)
I am almost in tears because this hit me so hard
(via badgorlbribri)This hits home with me so fucking hard.
