Still not a single word had passed between them, yet as Player One turned to leave after his initial defeat, Player Two's look of mildly insulted surprise brought him back to the control board, and Ryu was given another opportunity to win back the machine. Silently, the two players fought, laughed, shared, despaired and ultimately parted, as Player Two won each time. He never pulled his punches or took particular mercy on the man whose game he had taken from him, but he shared an ephemeral, vital experience with someone he never even spoke to and probably never saw again. A lifetime's worth of emotional encounters - that many a married couple have never known - compacted into the space of 15 street fighting minutes at one of the thousands of alters on the Golden Mile. Both acted as lover and leaver, pimp and prostitute, saint and sinner; until the inevitable time came to part company and find another companion.
And this type of videogame-induced unity isn't an unusual occurrence. Take a look around any arcade and this brand of digital promiscuity is rampant among game playing strangers - dancers plug into the music and unite in rhythm, drivers face-off against each other from either end of long rows of racing machines, and sharp shooters race to the draw and fill a criminal or an alien with imaginary lead. It also goes beyond videogames and touches every compulsion a gambler or player is looking to sate in the arcade's red, green and blue light district; the donkey derby, the penny roulette, the Hillbilly shooting range, miniature horse racing. These are all games that suffer greatly for want of likeminded companionship.
Visitors to England who only get the chance to hang around London (which is as alien to 95% of the British as it is to the Japanese tourists) have missed out on that most intrinsic, liberated, fun-loving aspect of the British psyche by not sampling Blackpool. It is impossible to be alone in Blackpool, and even the most solitary gamer would quickly find themselves craving this simple, intense, financially acquired (and yes, perhaps a little seedy) union when walking the Golden Mile.
Will you find love on The Front? No. But visit the arcades and you will find lust at its finest.
Spanner has written articles for several publications, including Retro Gamer. He is a self-proclaimed horror junkie, with a deep appreciation for all things Romero.
