All my friends were lucky. They lived in town. Where the arcade was. I lived a few miles out, in the boonies. In the sticks. Alas, at age 13, all I could do is dream about that that fabled place called The Pool Hall, home of Tempest, Mr. Do, and one game in particular everyone loved but I had never seen: Crazy Climber! Dual joysticks! Speech! Fun gameplay!
As luck would have it, the old man had to make a trip to town for some Ford truck part. I tagged along, told him I'd meet him in half an hour. I walked quickly down the alley towards The Pool Hall, went inside.
Kind of scoped out the place. Bunch of older kids in there that I didn't know. I had 3 quarters. That meant one quarter for a game of Mr. Do, one game of Crazy Climber (it cost 50 cents a game for some reason). Played Mr. Do but could only think of what was coming next: Crazy Climber. Mr. Do got squished , I didn't care because I played lots of Mr. Do at the local Sheetz. Walked over casually to the Crazy Climber, and got cut off by Billy Skelly. The local tough. He beat me up in 5th grade, I never got over that.
"Gimme a quarter" he said. I was being bullied! Extortion! Payoff for protection! But I only had 2. If I gave him a quarter, I couldn't play the one game I was dying to play. If I told him no, I'd get beat up. If I lied and he saw me play a game with a quarter, I'd get beat up.
I gave him the quarter. Crazy Climber probably sucks anyway. The Friggin' End. (True story)