She probably didn’t deserve this.

So I was playing GTA V the other day, and I met this woman.


She was not sprawled in the street when I met her. She was standing in a driveway in the hills of Vinewood, where I had been sneaking into people’s yards to swim in their pools and set bombs.

She was chatting with a neighbor about the inane sort of things you might imagine wealthy people chat about while loitering in their driveways. Outrage over trivial offenses – passionately discussed in hushed, indignant tones. The faux reluctance to speak ill of others overwhelmed by the need for attention and validation. The sort of bonding ritual that occurs when people having nothing of any significance to say feel the urge to have a conversation.

I was supposed to be looking for a place to stash a getaway car, but decided I could spare a few moments to indulge in a game of “stand real close”.

A few minutes under the silent, unwavering gaze of a meth addict is enough to kill the conversation, and the two retreat to their respective mansions. I likewise return to my own business.


Emerging from a pool, sticky bomb in hand, I am suddenly confronted with white suit lady again – now standing at her fence arms folded, gazing down over the city. She catches sight of me crouched in the stealth position one foot away from her, and turns to run.

This naturally triggers Trevor’s chase reflex, so I pursue.

Just as I activate hatevision, I see her leap over the fence, tumble to the bottom of the incline and come up into a full sprint. Watching her weave through traffic, I think – Holy shit. This bitch is on meth.

Being curious as to how far from her spawn point she’ll go, I hop the fence and take off after her. She is unreasonably fast, so I hurl myself down multiple hills to close the distance. I catch up and become fixated with trying to herd the pathing algorithm closer to downtown.

After a protracted foot chase, I see her cut across the street in the far distance, only to have her legs swept out from under her by the hood of a car.

Just walking away from the scene felt very anti-climactic, so I decided to take a few mementos of our brief time together.





She will never be subjected to bad customer service again. She is free now.


GTA V: Trevor

Some thoughts on Grand Theft Auto V:

1. I am still a shitty driver.

2. I still can’t aim.

3. Holy shit, Trevor.

4. My fear of planes translates into the virtual world.

5. When attempting to take cover, I usually end up on the side of the wall/lumber stack/dumpster under fire, rather than behind it. From the perspective of my attackers, I just fall to the ground and curl into the fetal position whenever someone starts shooting at me. This is pretty consistently a bad tactic.

6. Why in the fuck can you not throw environmental objects at people anymore? I walked up to a construction site on my first day of playing, spied a stack of bricks, and was like “Shit yeah, let’s party.” And then, like some kind of cruel joke, I found that I could not even lay hands on them. I had a pile of bricks. Unsuspecting targets were all around me. And yet, I could do nothing but stand there as they smugly paraded their unmarred skulls in front of me. I felt powerless.

Why did you take this away from me, Rockstar?

7. Trevor.

Instead of one main character, this GTA has three. You can switch between them (once they are unlocked). While you are playing on one of the characters, the other two are going about their own business. So when you switch back to them, they are not where you left them and are typically in the middle of some other task1.

Usually not murder though. That only seems to happen when you are in control. This makes me think that the underlying story is actually that you are a malevolent possessing spirit fucking with the lives of these people for your own amusement. You take control of them, go on a killing spree, and just as you are standing over a pile of bodies and burning wreckage, you peace out and leave them to deal with the aftermath. Think Fallen. Or a Shedim.

It is worth noting that I did not give the GTA series the credit it was due until (relatively) recently (c. TBoGT). I just took it for your typical murder simulator (you know, like most games), and not the freaking brilliant satire of . . . everything that it actually is. My b.

1Trevor is usually just vomiting. Or staring into the sun.