The story of the first game I played is also the story of the day I learned my first curse word.
My brothers had gotten hold of a rather illegal console, the Family Game, which was very popular in my home country of Argentina.
The game was an 8-bit platformer from Japan with a name we couldn’t decipher. It had very primitive graphics. You played as a pixelated blurb that could generously be described as a goblin. My brothers called him “El duendecito ch*to.”
I startled my mother by screaming I wanted to “Play with Ch*to!!” because I didn’t know that “Ch*to” is a very vulgar slang word that means “dick.”
I was six, or seven years old. I’m thirty-one now, and still very slow at guessing what slang words mean.
The same console gave me my first heroine.