Day one.
Wow! I FINALLY finished the “Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas” mission called “Air Raid.” Boy, was that a challenge! I have been playing the PS2 version of San Andreas for about six months now and this was the first mission I came across where I really felt like I was ready to give up on the game and genuinely start paying more attention to my girlfriend.
As the game goes, this first mission in a string of three missions initiated by some goofy geek-guy character named Zero, “Air Raid” involved shooting down little RC planes with a stationary machine gun on a rooftop in San Fierro while the planes try to drop bombs and kamikaze themselves into your friends radio transmitting equipment. It took me a couple of days to get used to shooting down enough of those little bastards to win the mission, but I persevered and remained resilient and the rewards were just.
After completing Zero’s first task, I wisely chose to save the game – a smart idea that you only have to learn about the hard way once – and go back to Zero’s, flying high on my recent triumph, to take on his second task, this one called “Supply Lines.” The story starts off where you, Carl Johnson, walk into Zero’s RC hobby shop looking for him. You find him in the closet, hanging by his underwear or something, completely embarrassed and humiliated. Anyway, this dude, Berkley, who is Zero’s mortal enemy or something, hung him by his drawers and now he has a mission for you to help him get his revenge. Apparently this guy Berkley does some sort of drug running or something and has five couriers driving throughout the city of San Fierro on their delivery runs. It’s up to you to fly one of those RC Baron planes that nearly F’ed up your life in the last mission all around the city to shoot and kill Berkley’s couriers and then make it back to Zero’s rooftop. Ok, I thought. Piece of cake, right?
The first challenge I faced during this mission was learning how to control the plane. I gave it a little gas and the plane flew effortlessly. Pulling back on the left analog stick made the plane pull up; pushing the stick up made the plane go down. Instructions in the upper left-hand corner of the screen informed me that the L2 and R2 buttons could be used to maneuver left and right. I experimented with this a bit, using a combination of the shoulder buttons and pushing the analog stick left and right, and, after testing the L1 button’s firepower for a bit, headed in the direction of the first blip on my radar.
…And failed miserably. I found a van all the way to the south west that looked like a great target. But when I started firing, I lost control of the plane and the courier in the van drove off in a hurry, firing a machine gun at me from a distance. I chased after him to make for a successful kill, but wound up using too much of the very limited fuel I was provided hunting him down. Eventually I did kill him, but just barely made it to killing a second courier van before my fuel ran out and I lost the mission.
But I persevered, figuring that having gotten through the hell that was “Air Raid,” I could take on any mission that Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas could throw at me. So I stepped into the red mission spot in front of Zero’s shop once again and gave it another go. But that would not be my last attempt at “Supply Lines…”
Today I spent a total of five hours trying to kill those damn couriers. And I tried every which way and in every combination. I tried killing the two couriers that spawn in the northern part of the city, but that didn’t work. I tried killing the two couriers closet to me, then the courier to the west of them, and then the two to the north, but that didn’t work either. I tried rolling the baron down the street, but that still burned fuel. Rolling the baron backwards? Still burned fuel. But, still, I figured other people had gotten through the game… it MUST be possible to beat the clock!
Eventually, I turned off my PS2 and called my girlfriend to say goodnight. She’s a great chick and is very patient dealing with my gaming obsessions – among the other dozens of issues that I have. I apologized to her for calling her so late and explained what had me preoccupied. She just laughed and told me it was OK and that she understood. I think the reason that she doesn’t have a problem with my gaming is that she figures she’d rather hear that I was spending my time with my PS2 than spending time with another woman. She certainly is a special one, that girl!
Day 2:
I was at work today and all I could think about was “Supply Lines.” What was I doing wrong? How could Rockstar Games be so cruel and provide me so little fuel? In between the many important tasks I complete throughout the day, I surfed the ‘net and Gamefaqs.com for a proper solution to my dilemma – which just wound up leading to MORE confusion. Turns out, all of the strategies people suggested were strategies I had already tried yesterday. To make matters worse, some people who had created strategies and FAQ’s on the internet seemed to find that when Rockstar Games ported GTA:SA to the XBOX and the PC, they modified the “Supply Lines” mission so that the RC Baron uses no fuel at all when you are just gliding. That sounded like that would make this mission MUCH easier! The best I could hope for is that rest from the night before and some time away from the game had cleared my mind and allowed me to think more clearly.
When I got home from work, I ran straight to my PS2, hit the “on” button, and went straight back to work on “Supply Lines.” This time, I felt confident in achieving victory. The controls for the RC Baron felt more comfortable this time, my knowledge of the territory and where the couriers would be and when, memorized. Berkley, whoever you are, you have met your match!
But today’s effort was no better than my last few attempts yesterday. Though I had killed the fifth courier a couple of times and managed to turn the RC Baron around in the direction of Zero’s RC shop, I had barely enough fuel both of those times to make it down the block, much less half-way across town. Throughout the course of playing, my girlfriend called, but I didn’t pick up the phone. Eventually, I gave up in frustration and looked at the clock in disbelief: it was 1:30 in the morning. I had been playing Grand Theft Auto since I got home at 5:50pm. Nearly eight hours of mind-numbing wanton killing, flying a remote controlled airplane through the streets of a faux-San Francisco, and listening to a phony Alternative music radio station playing the hits of the early 1990’s. It was too late to call my girlfriend, so I headed for bed, eager to get some rest and be ready for tomorrow.
Day 3.
I woke up this morning with bloodshot eyes. Normally, I have to be up by 5:30 to shower, get dressed and walk down to catch a 6:30 train into Manhattan. I wound up hitting the snooze button to sleep an extra fifteen minutes and caught the 6:38 train instead. Do those extra few minutes mean the difference between “rested” and “exhausted?” Probably not, but at that time of the morning, you’re in bed, you don’t want to get up, that extra fifteen minutes sounds like the best idea in the world.
I found it difficult to concentrate at work today. All I could think of was Grand Theft Auto. What was I doing wrong? Surely, Rockstar wouldn’t create such a ridiculously difficult mission to drive their players batty! I figured that there must be some other solution, so in searching some more for a new strategy to “Supply Lines,” I came across a suggestion by another frustrated GTA gamer like myself. Turns out, there’s a code you can input into the game that will speed things up just enough for you to make better time on your mission. The fuel gauge will not move any faster while the code is in action and once you complete your mission, you can enter another code that will slow the game pace down back to normal.
But I don’t like to use cheat codes. I prefer to try to accomplish something the way it was intended and with all of the challenge associated with it. It may be one of my greatest gaming challenges, but, dammit, it will be one that I win honestly!
Later that afternoon, my girlfriend called me at work. She asked me why I hadn’t called her back last night and I told her the truth. She didn’t seemed too peeved, but that’s because she called to remind me that we were supposed to hang out that night, just the two of us, sans Carl Johnson. Double dammit! I spent the entire day at work obsessing over GTA impatiently counting down the hours until got home in order to kick the living crap out of this jerk Berkley and his couriers. But that would have to wait…
Dinner with my girlfriend that night was brutal. Luckily, she likes to talk a lot, so I could spend my dinner smiling, nodding my head, and thinking about how the hell I would have enough fuel left after killing the fifth courier to make it back to Zero’s. After dinner, we went to a movie. I let her pick the movie because I knew, no matter what we went to see, I wasn’t going to be paying much attention. From previews to credits, the lights were down, the film rolled, and I planned my attack.
I dropped my girlfriend off at her place and sped home with the excuse that I really had to get ready for work in the morning. All the while, the truth being that I really needed to play some GTA. From the moment I got home, I played “Supply Lines” and lost over and over again until I checked the time: 3:00am. Holy crap! I had to get to bed and FAST if I was going to get any semblance of rest for work tomorrow….
Day 4.
Last night I dreamt that I was riding my bicycle down this quaint little street. My girlfriend was riding on the handlebars, her blonde hair flowing in the breeze and smiling as we rode. Suddenly, some Mother F’ing remote controlled plane starts flying after us. I picked up the speed but couldn’t outrun the plane. The only way I could get away from it was to lose my girlfriend and pick up the pace. I threw her off my bicycle and pumped the pedals, her voice trailing off in the distance, crying for me to not let her go, behind the whirring of a small RC motor.
The alarm clock woke me up in a cold sweat. Less than 4 hours of sleep and I knew there was no way I was going to work today so I called in sick and strapped down in front of my television.
Three hours later, I see on my called ID that work calls – probably wanting to know where I am – but I will call them back. I’m ignoring morning hunger pains, feel no need to shower, and my girlfriend is the least important thing in the world to me. Its just me, my DualShock 2, and GTA: San Andreas.
Nine hours into my day and several failed attempts from my job to contact me to wonder where the hell I am later, I slam my Dual Shock controller on the floor and break it. I’m losing it. I think that myself that this must be how Guantanamo Bay prisoners are punished. The tell them, “sure, you can leave our prison and go home to you families. All you have to do is beat the ‘Supply Lines’ mission in Grand Theft Auto.” I don’t know what “waterboarding” is, but I would take that any day of the week compared to this.
After going to the store to pick up a new controller, I call my job before the day is over and tell them that I was so deathly ill I couldn’t hear the phone ring. Totally bullshit excuse, but it worked and it bought me some time. My girlfriend calls me and asks me what I’m doing tonight because she wants to come over. I tell her no and that I’m in the middle of something important and can’t talk now. Back to the game…
Day 5.
I didn’t sleep last night. Still trying to beat this game. Its Friday now, and I figure that if I call in sick to work today, too, my excuse from yesterday should carry over. My girlfriend starts text messaging me asking me if everything is alright, that I’ve seemed distant this week. She wants to come over tonight and “talk.” I can’t text her right now. I’m in the middle of my 1,458th attempt at Supply Lines and I’ve come close one too many times to give up now.
Starving and exhausted, but not having the kind of time to eat a nutritious meal, I pour myself a bowl of cereal and fall asleep in it. I awake to slamming on the door – its my girlfriend and its now 7pm. I jump to the door to let her in and I’m a sight to see: unshaven, unkempt, in my underwear and robe, haven’t had a shower in two days or a good night’s rest for that matter. My eyes are bloodshot and I’m covered in milk and soggy Cocoa Pebbles. She insists on knowing what’s happening immediately. I hang my head and cry and tell her everything through the blubbering.
Surprisingly, she’s sympathetic. Instead of being upset with me, she asks me if she can try playing the game. I begged her, “NO! If it gets ahold of you, we’re BOTH doomed!” But she insisted.
She started off making some beginner errors in the game and then got hang of it. Following the path that was recommended on GameFAQS.com, she was soon making the same headway I had been making for the past few days. She turns to me at one point and says, “hey, have you tried just burning down the gas and seeing if that gets you there any faster?” I called her crazy. The fuel gauge is a “fuel gauge” for a reason. The more you press on the accelorator, the more fuel gets used. Get it? Rockstar would never mislead their customersor throw them off like that.
So she tries it. Not only did she beat the fucking mission, but she had fuel to spare. Turns out that the trick to the mission is to floor the fuel because it doesn’t run out any faster. Its just a time gauge.
My girlfriend put down the controller and smiled at me. I felt nautious. She took me by the hand, made me get up from my seat on the couch, and made me go to my bedroom to sleep.
Day 6.
I woke up this morning and the sun was shining. The birds were chirping. And my girlfriend lay beside me. I leaned over and kissed her forehead as she slept and I made her a secret promise to stop playing Grand Theft Auto for a while and be the man that she deserves. I feel like I went to hell, and she took the trip back with me.
I never did find out what happened to Carl Johnson. I never made it past the city of San Fierro or eventually to see Carl avenge his mother’s death. I hope he did well for himself in life and love. I know I sure did.
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