First essay ko post school... wala lang magawa 
Sugarcoated Gambling
The distant sound of coins clanging against a metal surface. People and families of all ages contemplating on which number, color, animal, clown to bet on. Sighs of desperation and relief. Laughter and excitement. Crossed fingers, conflicting eyebrows, and sweaty hands.
I have been into arcade games since my adolescent life, playing mostly fighting games (Marvel vs Capcom games and Tekken). I can’t help but notice some machines that let you win tokens, always filled up with people. One day, I was playing Tekken 6 but no one seemed to be interested in challenging me. People have been lining up on the seemingly new Fish Hunter game. It was a big machine, about ½ the size of a pool table, where up to six people can play all at once. The LED screen was attractive, displaying realistic colors and beautiful undersea creatures. The objective is quite simple, to catch as many fish as you can using your credits as bullets.
My curiosity got the best of me. I had to try this game out. I went over to exchange my 100 pesos for 20 plus 7 tokens. Luckily there was one vacant spot. I inserted one token. I had 10 credits. I fired my first shot, nothing. I tried again and again until my credits ran out.
I noticed this 40s woman who inserted 10 plus coins, and started firing away. Hmmm, maybe I need to do the same, more credits, more chances of winning! So I started with 10 tokens. Whoa, not bad, now I seem to be winning and getting the hang of it. I killed the shark, the big golden scorpion, the glowing blowfish, and before I knew it, I had 500 credits. So technically I won 400 credits already. With a smirk on my face, I played on. I played for hours and hours. People were looking at me because I was getting better at the game. After 3 or 4 hours I paid out a total of 1500 credits, the sound of the clanging of the coins against the metal slot was music to my ears. Maybe it was time to go.
Nope, I said to myself. I was winning and I got the skills to boot. I played on and on, until my palms started to get numb. It was as if I was in a different world, catching fish with some strangers at my side. Winning, winning. Yes!
Then it dawned on me: I was addicted. Although I was in denial at first, but after that long day of hitting the same button and hunting the same fish over and over, I couldn’t get enough of it. The following day, I returned with my wife and kid. She was reluctant at first, but I urged her to join the fish hunting. We played again for hours and hours, losing up to 400 pesos in just 2 hours of playing. Did I not have the skills? Did my luck run out? I really didn’t care.
One more thing that kept me going was the fact that other players were winning more than I was. My competitive gamer spirit took over, but to my dismay, it did not work out well. The strategy and skill I thought I had with me since the get go made no sense anymore. I was hitting the buttons harder, delaying my shots, hunting certain species only, but to no avail. I was losing. Not only credits and cash, but my precious time.
I stopped and looked around. One woman was dressed to actually go to church, but I heard she never made it. “Late na ako eh,” she muttered to herself. One guy was betting on a clown race, while playing Fish Hunter. Talk about addiction. He received a phone call, maybe asking him to come home, where he replied “Sandali nalang naglalaro pa ako eh.” An old couple were betting on the Ninth ball game, Lola handles the winnings while Lolo bets on the numbers. A middle aged guy even ordered his sandwich and coke because he already skipped his lunch while betting on the colors. A child was trying to get acceptance from his family by winning some tokens. A woman who may have finally found a sense of belonging, by befriending other “sugar gamblers.”
The realization hit home: I am a loser. Whether I thought I won some, whether I thought I enjoyed some, I lost all. Nothing can replace the lost time I spent banging the buttons and hoping for something to happen. Maybe if I had spent that lost time plucking my wife’s gray hair, fixing my kid’s bike, learning the piano, reading a good book, lifting some weights, etc, my time could have had more meaning.
So the next time I went to the arcade, I played Tekken 6 . In all ways better than the sugarcoated gambling machines. You play with 2 tokens, enjoy for 15 minutes, and leave with a clear conscience and a happy heart.
Sugarcoated Gambling
The distant sound of coins clanging against a metal surface. People and families of all ages contemplating on which number, color, animal, clown to bet on. Sighs of desperation and relief. Laughter and excitement. Crossed fingers, conflicting eyebrows, and sweaty hands.
I have been into arcade games since my adolescent life, playing mostly fighting games (Marvel vs Capcom games and Tekken). I can’t help but notice some machines that let you win tokens, always filled up with people. One day, I was playing Tekken 6 but no one seemed to be interested in challenging me. People have been lining up on the seemingly new Fish Hunter game. It was a big machine, about ½ the size of a pool table, where up to six people can play all at once. The LED screen was attractive, displaying realistic colors and beautiful undersea creatures. The objective is quite simple, to catch as many fish as you can using your credits as bullets.
My curiosity got the best of me. I had to try this game out. I went over to exchange my 100 pesos for 20 plus 7 tokens. Luckily there was one vacant spot. I inserted one token. I had 10 credits. I fired my first shot, nothing. I tried again and again until my credits ran out.
I noticed this 40s woman who inserted 10 plus coins, and started firing away. Hmmm, maybe I need to do the same, more credits, more chances of winning! So I started with 10 tokens. Whoa, not bad, now I seem to be winning and getting the hang of it. I killed the shark, the big golden scorpion, the glowing blowfish, and before I knew it, I had 500 credits. So technically I won 400 credits already. With a smirk on my face, I played on. I played for hours and hours. People were looking at me because I was getting better at the game. After 3 or 4 hours I paid out a total of 1500 credits, the sound of the clanging of the coins against the metal slot was music to my ears. Maybe it was time to go.
Nope, I said to myself. I was winning and I got the skills to boot. I played on and on, until my palms started to get numb. It was as if I was in a different world, catching fish with some strangers at my side. Winning, winning. Yes!
Then it dawned on me: I was addicted. Although I was in denial at first, but after that long day of hitting the same button and hunting the same fish over and over, I couldn’t get enough of it. The following day, I returned with my wife and kid. She was reluctant at first, but I urged her to join the fish hunting. We played again for hours and hours, losing up to 400 pesos in just 2 hours of playing. Did I not have the skills? Did my luck run out? I really didn’t care.
One more thing that kept me going was the fact that other players were winning more than I was. My competitive gamer spirit took over, but to my dismay, it did not work out well. The strategy and skill I thought I had with me since the get go made no sense anymore. I was hitting the buttons harder, delaying my shots, hunting certain species only, but to no avail. I was losing. Not only credits and cash, but my precious time.
I stopped and looked around. One woman was dressed to actually go to church, but I heard she never made it. “Late na ako eh,” she muttered to herself. One guy was betting on a clown race, while playing Fish Hunter. Talk about addiction. He received a phone call, maybe asking him to come home, where he replied “Sandali nalang naglalaro pa ako eh.” An old couple were betting on the Ninth ball game, Lola handles the winnings while Lolo bets on the numbers. A middle aged guy even ordered his sandwich and coke because he already skipped his lunch while betting on the colors. A child was trying to get acceptance from his family by winning some tokens. A woman who may have finally found a sense of belonging, by befriending other “sugar gamblers.”
The realization hit home: I am a loser. Whether I thought I won some, whether I thought I enjoyed some, I lost all. Nothing can replace the lost time I spent banging the buttons and hoping for something to happen. Maybe if I had spent that lost time plucking my wife’s gray hair, fixing my kid’s bike, learning the piano, reading a good book, lifting some weights, etc, my time could have had more meaning.
So the next time I went to the arcade, I played Tekken 6 . In all ways better than the sugarcoated gambling machines. You play with 2 tokens, enjoy for 15 minutes, and leave with a clear conscience and a happy heart.
kahit yung teks at pogs. kahit hindi pansin form na din yun ng gambling 
