I passed by the Amazon Headquarters in Seattle. It takes a pair to name your own place Invictus, but they in fact, have three large balls. I’m not sure what the statement is—two giant balls at the base of a skyscraper I would get, three makes no sense. Invictus is the latest Big Tech headquarters to call Seattle home since Boeing put down roots a hundred years ago—but just like a new bit of tech that’s lost its shiny, it looks like they ripped off the plastic film and then moved on. In a space where several thousand people once had offices, you’d be hard pressed to count more than a handful that come in and out each day. Tech has always come and gone in waves, leaving debris in the wake, but never on a scale like this. So I have to ask, what’s the plan?
I didn’t come to Seattle for building porn, but conferences don’t always make for interesting story-telling or a fun a night out. An attempt was made, drinks were had, but a reception among strangers couldn’t hold my attention. I had to find my own thing to do which is how I ended up in Fremont, at a tiny arcade-bar.
This isn’t the kind of place for nostalgic dads to have a beer in peace while their kids run wild for tokens and tickets. The barkeep/door attendant meticulously cards you before the scary-ass door has time to shut behind. Entering from a back alley entrance, the door looks like it belongs to a drug den—but mustering the courage to pass through had exactly the right effect on me. Soon I had a drink in one hand and a pocketful of quarters in the other. There were some classic arcade games, mixed with new, but the real attraction was their collection of pristine, vintage pinball machines. Some are much older than I am, but they’re so well cared for—I hope to look half that good when I have similar mileage. I let the quarters flow.
Besides astronomically high scores, there are two objectives to shoot for in a round of pinball. The first, and somewhat easier is the add-a-ball. That’s where you lock in a milestone and the machine spits out another ball, or several, so that you’re furiously jamming those buttons to keep them all in play and rack up the points. If that works out well, you’ll have a better chance to reach the more coveted objective, the replay limit.
I have to admit that after a second IPA, my coordination was not up to the task. With every sip, the hope of free replays faded further from my grasp, but not so for the regulars. A few beers seemed to have the opposite effect, relaxing them into the right rhythm. I have to conclude that the art and skill of becoming a pinball wizard isn’t necessarily linked to sobriety—I lack some other quality for greatness, maybe my wrists aren’t supple, who knows. I watched on as the click, click-clack of the flippers rang them up, ever higher and beyond the replay limit—which apparently is not the same on every machine. It was in watching, that I learned there was a reason why the best players hung around the same machines, one of which turned out to be Mars Attacks. It got a lot love because it gave a lot of love. Too bad I can’t say the same about the film.
After I dropped my last two quarters on the Limited Edition 007 Thunderball, I knew I’d reached my limit. So I made my way back through the door, passed Invictus, and eventually arrived near the market for a waterside view at Clippers for some tasty, late-night crab legs. While warm butter sauce oozed down my fingers and the satisfying crack of chitin yielded its prize, I wondered if Amazon’s balls would endure like those marvelous pinball machines. Maybe they’ll trade hands too, lovingly cared for over the years until a new generation needs them. You never know, the next big tech wave might be reproductive health. That statement would make sense.
The official word is that Amazon employees are currently being rehoused due to “an increase in violent crime in the Seattle area.” I can’t say that I saw more than the normal disorder you expect to find on the weekend in any big city, but I’m not a statistician, or a corporate spokesman. What I can say is that we need more space for places like the Add-A-Ball Arcade. I highly doubt that repurposing a few thousand square feet of underutilized office space is open for discussion, but I mean, why not?
