Whac-A-Mole.
You know the game, right?
The one where oversized mallets, buzzers, and flashing lights create a rush of adrenaline as you attempt to concuss as many fake rodents as you can before the bell sounds.
Because, you know. There’s that giant hot pink llama that, should you be lucky enough to win, you’ll be forced—I mean privileged—to carry through the amusement park and finagle into the back seat of your car, making for a very uncomfortable ride home for your buddies. Not to mention you’ve yet to figure out where to put it in your home because you’ve got too much junk already.
It’s rigged, of course. This game.
Rarely does one win the hot pink llama.
Oh, the carnies allow one or two of those giant stuffies to be released into the wild. Usually via a cute little kid with freckles and two missing teeth. Hey, if that tiny human can do it, you can do it, right?
But this is how they get you. It’s amusement park advertising.
Monkey see, monkey want a giant llama too.
So you fork over the cash and keep smashing absolutely nothing with that mallet because those little plastic moles are just too darn fast.
You’re beating the air.
You’re making noise.
Breaking a sweat, maybe.
But those moles are sneaky quick.
I’ve been playing variations of Whac-A-Mole for quite a while now, with the universe and its terrible sense of timing and even worse sense of humor starring in the role of The Carnie.
I’ve tried my hand (and often blown a wad of cash) at playing:
Whac-A-Feeling: In which the object of the game is to squash, squelch, or stuff the emotion-of-the-moment down long enough to function before the next one pops up.
I have yet to win a hot pink llama playing this game.
Whac-A-Memory: In which the object of the game is to squash, squelch, or stuff the flashback-of-the-moment down long enough to function before the next one pops up.
This rendition has not yielded a hot pink llama.
Oooh, and there’s this one: Whac-A-…Wait, What?
It’s my favorite version of all. In which the object of the game is to stare slack-jawed at yet another unexpected-turn-of-events moment. This one is where the universe leans against the game stall partition and smiles wide with its yellowed teeth—it’s missing a few in the front—and holds out its hand for payment.
You hesitate, but man, do you want that hot pink llama. You know it’s possible—you saw that little kid with one…
So you fork over the cash and keep smashing absolutely nothing with that mallet because these unexpected turns of events are just too darn fast.
You beat the air.
You make noise enough to worry your overworked feline office staff (yes, they let cats into this particular amusement park—just go with me…).
You break a sweat, maybe more than one sweat.
But these Whac-a-Whats are sneaky quick…
Then you remember the game is rigged.
The universe doesn’t play any fairer than a corrupt carnie.
So you channel your inner freckle-faced child, and you remember…
Games are supposed to be, what’s the word? Fun?
So you go one game over, leave those disappearing and unpredictable rodents to their dark holes, and try something new. Maybe the ring toss.
Or balloon darts. Yeah, that’s the one.
Just for a moment.
You wipe the sweat from your brow. The change does you good. The carnie at this stall has kind eyes and gives a wink as she hands you a trio of darts.
You aim the first at a yellow balloon. Pop! Things are looking up…
You line up the second shot. A blue balloon this time. Pop! Your heart race.
The carnie smiles and nods approvingly.
One dart left. You feel in your pockets and realize you’re out of dough because the Whac-A-Whats wrung you dry. The giant pink llama requires five balloon pops to win. The best you can hope for is a three-pop penguin.
So be it.
You line up the dart and lob it awkwardly—it’s your carpal tunnel acting up from all that mallet work. The dart flies straight up, arcs, then makes its descent, point down over the top of a green balloon. Pop! Green bits go flying.
And the dart is still descending…
Another blue one. Pop!
That dart’s still falling, point down. Pop! goes an orange orb.
Balloon confetti litters the ground.
Cheers ring through the air.
And the little kid in you looks up at the carnie with the kind eyes and then gazes toward that giant pink llama and gives no thought at all to the upcoming and very uncomfortable ride home for your buddies.
