The Game Of Life And How To Play It BY ASHLEY VERNOLA
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hen my boss told me that the way to succeed in this industry was to just play the game of life, I didn’t know what he meant. What game? How could I get my hands on it? So when I got out that night, and he patted me on the head with a smile and a reassuring, “You’re never gonna get out, kid,” I laughed. He was so silly. So I headed off to my local neighborhood Everything and Anything store in order to search for this game. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find, and once I got home and opened it up, I couldn’t believe my eyes: The Game of Life, just like he said, laid right out in front of me. Looking at the board, the path to success seemed to be a winding path. Write that one down. It was a winding path but nothing I couldn’t handle, so I sat down, strapped myself in and gave the wheel a little spin. The first choice of college or career was easy, as I am a recently graduated college student, so I skipped right to its end: “STOP! Pick a Career”. I was interning with Big Business, but there was no business path, so I picked its closest equivalent: doctor. The next morning, I approached my boss with a chipper attitude, proclaiming, “You always said to aim higher, so guess what? I’m now a doctor and have $50,000 dollars under my belt!” He bit into a piece of his muffin and mumbled, “Eh, son, it all sucks,” but I turned away with a bounce in my step and bumped into Shiela in the hallway. I glanced down at her hand. Great, no ring. My chance was now. I was down on one knee. She looked shocked. “You need to win too, right? So, marry me.” I wasn’t that far in the game yet, I hadn’t yet bought a house, but knew a wedding took time. “Uh…what?” She asked. God, she was so endearing when she blinked so fast. I held my hands out, eager for her to grab them, but she turned on her heels and walked quickly away. I’d have to find another to win. Since my marriage to Shiela didn’t work out, I 12
knew I just had to keep going. I could find someone else. So I spun the wheel until I reached another milestone: “STOP! Buy a House!” I browsed through the selection of cards and found myself a little craftsman. Look at me, a craftsman. I couldn’t wait to spend the night away from my dingy twin sized bed and in something more luxurious. And all to myself! Oh, wait! What’s that? “STOP! Get Married!” Oh, where is Shiela now? I grabbed a pink person peg and put her into my green car. I named her Amanda. I knew it was hasty but we were destined to get married right now. I brought the beautiful pink peg up to my lips and kissed; yes, I kissed. I knew I’d have to make up invitations the next day for everyone at work, but in the meantime, we’d share this moment on our own. The next day at work Shiela ignored me, but I announced to the office my shotgun wedding to Amanda. They asked for pictures, and I handed them the peg. Of course, after marriage, everyone knows the next logical step is children, so with a few spins, and a couple dents in my income (There was a flood and I neglected to buy insurance) I finally landed on it: “STOP Have a Baby!” With Amanda between my fingertips and a fire in my stomach, I picked up a beautiful baby girl. I named her Jenny. Oh, how Jenny was my little pride and joy. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone in the office, but when I showed them pictures of my beautiful peggy girl, they gave me confused looks. HR had been hovering around my desk. I wasn’t sure what was wrong. One day, my boss walked up to my desk and patted me on the back, “Kid, you’ve lost it. That’s what this place will do to you.” “Lost it?” I asked. How could I have lost it? The night before I had pulled into Millionaire Estates. I had won. I was a millionaire. It was only a matter of time until my check came in and my wife and daughter would come home to me. I had won. He shook his head. I felt around for the money in my pocket. I had won.