So, like most of the civilized world, my wife and I have been swept up in Pokemon Go… “fever”, or whatever. If you’ve followed this site for a while, you’ll know that I was never into Pokemon growing up. I didn’t have a GameBoy when the games first hit in the nineties, so  the whole thing sort of passed me by, and it never captured my attention later on (despite giving it a whirl with Black/White).

My wife, on the other hand, was a huge Pokemon nerd. I look at an unidentified sillhouette in Pokemon Go and say “Hey, there’s a big… ‘thing’ nearby” and she looks at the shadow and names that sucker without a second thought. So it’s been a fun thing for us to do together. We took regular walks before, but now we’re, like, passionate about reasons to go out. Stupid shit like going to get the mail, just because we might capture an Eevee down the end of our driveway.

But for some reason, she never seems to have any fucking Pokeballs. As if her phone has a goddamn hole in it and they just fall out as she walks around. We will literally go take the kids to get ice cream, and sit in the park eating it while farming a nearby Pokestop, stock up 80-100 Pokeballs, and ten minutes later she’s like “I need more Pokeballs.”

And it’s not just like it’s poor aim. As we drive around on errands, she’s in the passenger seat with both of our phones, hitting stops and collecting Pokemon on both our phones, and I never run out of Pokeballs. I’ve never even been close. She believes that my phone is easier to catch Pokemon on, and I’m starting to not rule out the possibility that her phone has been cursed by some sort of demon. I’ve had maybe four Pokemon run away from me in the past week. Her? A dozen. CP10 Rattatas are breaking out of her Pokeballs left and right like they’re made from cellophane while I’m over there capturing CP400 Nidorinas on the first toss.

Maybe it’s just bad luck, but whatever. I’m not exactly going to argue with another excuse to drive out to a Pokestop for more farming.