We Were Only Playing Half-Life

I was working part-time at this computer repair shop in a strip mall.
The Brittle brothers ran it, Shane and Joel.

This place was drastically different from the shop I’d worked in under Jim.
It was clean, and didn’t reek of stale cigarettes.

We’d build custom high-end gaming systems.
We’d get these shitty Acer cases and I’d modify them.
I convinced the brothers to buy me tools to cut side panels, and I’d lay in plexiglass with a rubber gasket to seal it.

I taught some of the other kids how to do case mods and computer repair too.

The video game Half-Life had just come out.
And I think the 3DFX Voodoo2 video cards had just dropped—with amazing support for Glide.

There was Ash, Noah, Joe Boo, and a few others who worked with me.
We had the back area set up for LAN parties after hours.
Joel or Shane would often drop by with pizza and beer for the crew.

One night while playing, we were testing out some new speaker systems.
Shane was thinking of adding high-end audio to the store offerings.
Turtle Beach was just emerging with a new 3D audio card that slotted into the ISA slot and could cable directly to the Voodoo card in the VESA slot next to it.

It supported Dolby 4.1—which was pretty new at the time.

There were seven or eight of us, and our speakers were cranked.

We loved this one deathmatch map—it was set in an industrial foundry or something.
It had amazing spots you could gauss jump into.

We’d cheer above the speakers as we racked up kill shots.
Our virtual MP5s rattled. The boom of combat shotguns echoed through the back room.
It was one of the first games with such immersive, realistic audio.

The back door of the shop was open. It was hot in there—a sticky night in mid-July.

Then—

Police in body armor, armed with assault rifles, stormed into the shop through the open door.

We all froze.

“What the fuck?!” I blurted out.

The cops looked thoroughly confused.

“Are any of you being held hostage?”

Despite being one of the youngest there, I was the senior staff member.

I stood up slowly—not being stupid. I didn’t want to get shot.

“The fuck kind of question is that? You’re trespassing on private property. Got a warrant?”

“We’ve got probable cause,” the lead cop said.

The others started turning down speakers so we could all hear.

He continued—

“Did you all break in?”

“No. This is our shop. We all work here. And if you don’t stop pointing those guns at us, the owners will have you removed from the police force.”

Shane was always going on about how he was connected to the mayor and yada yada.
So I dropped his name.

I suppose maybe he really was, because those cops quickly lowered their guns.

One of the other kids let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank God—I think I shit myself.”

I called Shane, and he came down to the store.
I was standing outside with the cops when he arrived. There were a couple cop cars and a SWAT truck.

Shane gave them a verbal debasing unlike anything I’d ever heard.
Soon after, the local police commissioner came out and gave each kid a formal apology.

Shane looked at him, then at me, then back at the police chief.

“Not good enough,” he said.
“These kids deserve better. I think you just bought every single one of them the latest and greatest hardware.”

After the cops left, and the commissioner settled up for a $25K bill of sale for the computers, we had a good laugh.

“I guess those speakers are truly amazing,” Shane said.

I kept that set of speakers for nearly 20 years.

Because they were pretty fucking amazing.