Thanks for the Thixophobia, Mr. Fleming

Ok, so I don't really think I have Thixophobia, fear of being touched. I thought it might be Demophobia, fear of crowds, but it's a little much, it's not something I would put in my Match.Com profile. I'm not sure there is a word for the fear I have, which is a little difficult to put into words, even for us here at Mods.

Where X and Y meet, on their axis, is called the origin. The origin is what I fear. That is to say, if I am walking along and it becomes apparent to me that someone, also walking, will meet me at the origin, or will create an origin if we both keep walking at the same speed, well, I just become terribly upset.

Like if me and the old lady head to the skim milk at the same time, that square outside the sliding door would be the origin, and I will avoid that space with extreme prejudice.

If someone passes by me too closely, I reflexively hold my breath and wait for the wake of their presence to waft over me until it's safe to breathe. I believe this is borne out of some strange anxiety, associated with proximity.

I believe the reason for my troubles is this:

Goldeneye for the Nintendo 64 was released in 1997, and I was damn good at it. This was probably the best I would ever be at any video game, end of discussion. I could run through the levels backwards, I knew all the spawning points, all the shortcuts, all the tricks, and I knew where you were hiding. I was sought out for alliances. Opponents tested their mettle against me. I would go on to compare it to every game after, and none of them ever really stacked up.

My signature, what I was known for, what my dossier would stress, was my proficiency with the grenade launcher. With that particular weapon, I was unstoppable. When the game began, the other three players would race to the spawning point of the launcher to try and keep me from it. Alas, it was futile. Before long, my avatar, the Janus Marine, would be raining fiery death down upon everything that moved.

I had a particular eye for being able to judge the distance from me and the other player, pointing the barrel of the grenade launcher at just the right height to ensure an explosive death for the person cursing loudly beside me. But, to put more of a finesse on the thing, what I was really good at was judging where the opponent was running, and firing so that the grenade would land squarely in front of them, their own momentum carrying the avatar into a digital afterlife, over and over.

The Aztec Temple. This was the area to avoid if you were playing against me. See that ramp there to the left? I would stand about half way up that and fire the grenade launcher while you ran in panic-driven circles in that open courtyard until the end. And the end was never too far off, for you.

My eyes would glaze over, and a sadistic smile would crawl across my face. Finally, a game I was good at, finally my wrath could be realized.

But, 1997 was a long time ago. Now the N64 is boxed up in the closet, the games scattered around in drawers. Even if I hooked it all up again, it's hard to get three people who were ever a challenge over to the house at the same time.

If I were going to do a cover of NIN's "Hurt" a la Cash, I'd be sitting there in sepia holding a Nintendo 64 controller.

Now, getting too close to people makes me uncomfortable. If they're headed to the same spot I am, I just adjust my gait, or completely change directions. I'll even pretend to talk on the phone, change the meeting place with the phantom caller so that I'll turn around and go the opposite direction.

And I wonder, if it's because I'm afraid the grenade will fall, where X meets Y.