Intervention: Angry Birds
So I see that Angry Birds finally came out for the android phones yesterday. Apparently they are offering the “free” version for all you suckers. Trust me, from an iPhone owner, don’t do it.
That first version is like your first hit of heroin, before you know it, once you’ve cleared all the levels in the free app, you’ll be looking for your next high. ”Chasing the dragon,” they call it in some circles.
You think “Hey, it’s only 99 cents, what harm can come of it?” Plenty, my friend. Before you know it, your job and marriage could be in jeopardy, and child protective services will be knocking on your door. Let me share my sordid tale before you fling your first bird.
It all started when I kept hearing about this great new iPhone application that everyone was talking about on twitter. Naturally I had to try it out, because I cover pop culture, I had to know why this game was all the rage. I installed the Angry Birds “lite” on my phone. A few hours later, I was giddy and exalted, because I had breezed through all the levels of the “lite” application.
Here are where things went awry, and trust me, if I could go back in time and undo my actions, I would. But I was weak, and it was so easy to buy that 99 cent app. Before I knew it, I was playing Angry Birds anytime and anywhere I could. When I went to the DMV to get a new license tag, I clicked my heels in joy when they told me it would be a 90 minute wait. I had ninety minutes of time to kill-playing Angry Birds. It was bliss.
Soon, I was playing the app every spare moment I could. In the carpool lane. In the grocery store check-out lane. At the gym. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t care who saw. Then came the worst part-I introduced the “harmless” addiction to my husband.
I still feel guilty. It was horrible. He started to lie to our family. Under the guise of “checking the laundry” or “grilling meat” I would find him sequestered from the family, obsessively catapulting a myriad of birds through space to shatter their targets.
The day we hit rock bottom was when we were both locked in separate bedrooms. We were both on a bender, having played Angry birds for several hours in a row (on a Saturday.) Our children occasionally appeared to complain that they were “hungry,” but I stifled their cries with granola bars and goldfish.
This is the seamy underbelly of Angry Birds. The part they don’t tell you about. Until now.
The worst part is coming down after you clear the board. You feel lost, letdown, depressed. How will you fill your time now? Angry Birds has become your best friend. You seek its solace when you can’t sleep at 3am, now you have lost your nocturnal friend. It’s okay to grieve. We all do. It’s the nature of the beast.
Psst-have you heard about the Cut the Rope app? I’m not a pusher or anything, but…