“Let’s go,” my son yelled against the cry and hammer of electronic death around us. I couldn’t figure that. We’d been at the Fascination video arcade hardly ten minutes then. Chris, like most 14-year-old male children, can measure life out in quarters. But this was too soon: he couldn’t yet have dropped the $5 worth I had given him. Laurie, my wife, and I were less than $2.50 behind in that sucker scam, Video Poker. And, old quarterman, me, I still wanted to snipe at some surly Berzerk robots. So I said, “Why? Don’t you like the machines in here?”
“Let’s go, huh? Let’s get out of here.”
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