A gaming tragedy happened to me yesterday. I’m still bummed about it.
I lost my saved game files for the Fallout 4 play-through I had been working on for over two months. I even reviewed the game recently. My character, a red-haired vixen (what other type would I play?!) dead shot named Jessica had traversed the Commonwealth in my place. She had found her lost son. Jessica had made the tough decision of which faction to join (The Institute); which companion to take as her lover (Curie…I’m a sucker for androids with big hearts).
Jessica had a soft side who could be snarky in particular situations. She once gave too many drugs to an old woman and accidentally killed her. Her favorite food was Mutant Hound Chops with a side of Nuka Cola Cherry.
Okay, I’m being facetious. But man…losing a 50+ hour saved game is a hard pill to swallow. I had let my 8-year-old start a new Fallout 4 game. I don’t the how or whys of what happened, but an hour later he comes up to me, in tears, and says “Dad, I’m sorry. I deleted all your Fallout 4 game saves.”
Dad, I’m sorry. I deleted all your Fallout 4 game saves.
I definitely went through the typical stages of grief.
Denial — No way. He’s mistaken.
Anger — Oh my god, I’m never letting the kid be in the same ROOM as my Xbox One ever again!
Bargaining — Please, God, I will stop writing short stories with evil Baptist preachers if one file can be saved!
Depression — Well, fuck. It’s gone. 50+ hours of my life. Gone. I need booze. And a giant cookie.
Acceptance — It was an easy mistake. He’s 8 years old. I’ve done the same thing before with other games.
I will accept Good Dad points for swallowing my gamer rage and putting on a soft face to tell my son that I understood it was an accident and not to feel bad.
But to keep it real here…I think I would trade the Good Dad points for my save files. Bargaining. It’s the one step we truly never get beyond!