Pachinko Ball and Chain

I’ve finally arrived in the city after a long walk through the countryside, and as luck would have it, I found a bit of money while rummaging through my pockets. What should I do with my riches? The sheet I’m wearing is as good a piggy bank as the sofa in my living room; if you dig persistently enough, you’ll always find cash in some crevice. I should hang upside down from a tree branch like a bat and let money pour like rain from my pockets to the ground!

My phone needs power, so I thought I’d waltz into some shop and simply plug my charger into the wall. That’s what the youth do, so why not the antiques? There looks to be a suitable spot for charging. There’s a sign on the wall that says PACHINKO in big letters. I wonder what that means? Peeking through the door, I see an arcade full of slot machines. To boldly go where so many failed authors have gone before; straight into the fiery pit of gambling! 

Everything glitters and clinks, jingles and sings. There are rows of pachinko machines making noises on their own. One employee is nodding off behind the counter, and the only customers are a few men in suits. The businessmen seem deeply immersed in the game world and pay no attention to the ghost staring at them.

How do they have the time to hang out in a gaming hall in the middle of the day? Why aren't they at work? Perhaps they have trouble controlling their gambling. Gambling addiction is like a ball and chain; you can’t get rid of it easily without losing half your fortune in the process.

I am an unemployed artist without obligations or opportunities; I have time to linger in gaming halls charging my batteries. Here we go, a suitably secluded spot. I’ll unplug one machine from the wall and plug my phone in, then I’ll sit down in front of another machine and wait. A little rest does a world of good.
 


Pachinko, eh? There’s even a book called Pachinko. I haven't read it myself yet, but I suppose it tells the story of these gaming halls. For certain reasons, I haven't had time to read a single thing lately, after being forced to move reluctantly from Korea to Japan. And I haven't experienced anything interesting enough to write my next bestseller about. Travel only broadens one's lack of funds!

I could play to pass the time. I have a few measly yen; should I save them for a rainy day? No, into gambling they go, naturally! Of course, a smart person realizes that gambling isn't sensible, but on the other hand, what if Lady Fortuna favored the bold for once and granted a jackpot to a poor, heavily indebted ghost? He who is not afraid plays, and since I’ve already lost everything once in the game of lifelessness, what would I have to fear?

So, I take a bill and push it into the machine, and in return I get... small metal balls? Apparently, these are what you play with. Vegas, baby! Ta-da, in they go, bouncing happily; I’ll try to steer them a bit. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea what’s so special about this. Noise, plastic, loss of money, and I have absolutely zero chance of winning anythi–

Wait, what is happening? The machine went wild with flashing lights, because I won! And as a prize I got... more metal balls? Presumably, they can be exchanged for money at the counter. Enough gambling for now; I’ll unplug my phone and go ask the staff for more information.

Excuse me, sumimasen, I’d like to exchange these metal balls for money. What’s that? Gambling is forbidden in Japan? What kind of scam joint are you running here? What the hell am I supposed to do with these balls then? Toss them at the pigeons so they can come here and play too? I can exchange them for prizes? Fine, let's exchange them.

What are these, playing cards? What do I do with these? I’m supposed to go outside and exchange them for money at some other counter? I thought you couldn’t win money here. Seems rather shady to me! If you intend to bypass the laws, it should be done much more discreetly. What am I trying to imply? Nothing, what are you trying to imply? You’re asking me to leave? Fine, I’m going, but I’m taking these playing cards with me and not exchanging them for anything! Haha, the joke’s on you!

Grumbling, muttering, I feel cheated! This is what lifelessness is always like. I’m just a pachinko ball, spinning and whirling uncontrollably from one place to another, obeying the whims of fate, and in the end, someone else inherits the money I earned. It raises the question: does anything make sense? Has anything ever made sense?


...

Next Chapter: Coming soon...

Previous Chapter: For the Love of the Profession 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

O.G. Ghostwriter

Image
The lifelessness I've led has made me into the grand writer I am today. There was a time when I lurked in the cellars of the Paris Opera House, singing songs and wearing masks, a time when I commanded The Flying Dutchman, braving the seas and bringing disaster with me everywhere I sailed, and a time when I challenged Hamlet to decide whether to be or not to be – personally, that wasn't much of a problem for me, for I once was but no longer am. During my long haunting years I have experienced so much. The next logical step is to write my own experiences into a book, and that is exactly what I'm doing.  Behold! My autobiography, Confessions of O.G. Ghostwriter , a masterpiece just waiting to be written. I shall describe in excruciating detail everything that has ever happened to me. It’s going to be a banger. The quill is sharpened and the inkwell opened; now, let the magic happen! I shall think for a moment. What would be a brilliant beginning for my grand novel? "It wa...
Read more

The Nightmare Before Halloween

Image
What a night! Drizzle and despair, death and desolation! Darkness has fallen over the land, and October has driven everybody indoors to whine and complain about the weather. The terrible weather suits me just fine, for I’ve never felt more unalive!  A good day, in short. No external writing assignments in sight, and I’ve also unplugged my fax machine, so I can continue writing my latest novel in peace. This time, I'm trying a stream-of-consciousness technique. The working title of the book is “Ghost of the Cloth”. It’s a riveting story about a young ghost choosing a suitable sheet to wear from his grandmother's linen closet while other ghost relatives argue nearby. I'll describe the difficulty of making a choice over a whopping 900 pages. This is sure to be a massive hit! Hmm, let's see... "I’ll tell this secret to you alone, this linen I have chosen will never be my own…” The doorbell rings! Oh, for crying out loud, who could that be at this hour? How do I look? I...
Read more

Fantastic Baby

Image
Annyeonghaseyo!  I’m still in Korea because, surprise, surprise, I can't afford the return flight ticket back home. I might as well get used to the situation; travel broadens the mind. During these past few weeks I’ve learned a lot about this completely unfamiliar culture, and also a lot about myself – for instance, that I cannot stand traveling! I’m constantly thinking about my next meal, constantly fighting with homeless people over a park bench to sleep on, and let me tell you one thing: when it rains, it pours. So travel broadens the mind, while making you soaking wet, unrested, and hungry.  And what’s even worse is all I can think about is my home manor, and the fact that my ghostwriting business is in ruins. AI has taken a large portion of my old clients, which means the sound of my fax machine beeping is a thing of the past. My own book writing isn't going that well either. I keep submitting my manuscripts to publishers, but they won't touch them with a ten-foot pole...
Read more