Meet the Mob: Brett Bates

Those of you who have followed my work here on Bitmob know that my posts often reveal autobiographical tidbits. I’ve told you how I used games to cope with a breakup; I’ve laid bare my Netflix addiction; I’ve admitted that sometimes I’m a bit of a noob. And you’ve probably figured out by now that I enjoy taking nerdy photographs around San Francisco.

What’s left to learn? Read on to find out.

I was a Hollywood star

During my high school years in Irvine, CA, I took some acting and improv classes for fun. Surprisingly, I landed an agent. I never got any parts, but during the audition process I got to “act” while I did things like eat Jell-O off a table without using my hands or run around a bench while a guy pretending to be a midget — the midget “unfortunately couldn’t make it” that night — bopped me on the head with a foam bat. I also received a pager, and whenever I called my agent back after I got “beeped” regarding a “gig,” I felt like the coolest cat on the block.

One of my headshots. I seem so nonchalant about conquering Hollywood.

I sometimes make decisions based on silly things

I decided to enroll at New York University, despite never having visited to the Northeast, much less New York City. I like to think that I had many varied and valid reasons for doing this, but the truth is, I was really into Felicity at the time.

Whatever the rationale, I consider moving to New York City to be one of the best decisions I ever made.

I once wrestled a bear into submission

Not because I needed to, but just because I could.

I played games, then I didn’t play games, then I did again

I grew up with games. The first console we had in the house was an Atari 2600 my mom won on Wheel of Fortune (she was a three-day champion!). Too young to really understand how to work a joystick, I vaguely remember mashing buttons and having a lot of fun with Plaque Attack.

My true entree into the world of video games was Mario and the NES. I played the heck out of that console before graduating to the Super Nintendo, the Game Boy, the Game Gear (it had a color screen — I couldn’t resist), the PlayStation, and the Nintendo 64.

Then I stopped. Chalk it up to high school, girls, whatever — but I stopped caring about video games. I sold my systems and all of my games. In college, my gaming experiences were few and far between: I played multiplayer GoldenEye on my friend’s tiny television; I swatted at some balls with Virtua Tennis on this console called a “Dreamcast”; I busted some moves in Tony Hawk; and that’s about it.

I remained uncaring until the day my roommate announced he planned to buy a used PS2 so he could play the new Tony Hawk. I volunteered to buy a second controller and some games to start our collection. Reading up on gaming Web sites, I kept coming across “Ico” and “Grand Theft Auto III,” so those were the two games I bought.

Suffice it to say, they hooked me in again.

One of these stories isn’t true

Can you guess which one?

I have smooth moves

Before I my “acting” career in high school, I was a shy guy, and I developed a tremendous crush on a girl in my chemistry class named Mindy. Never having spoken with her, I had no idea what she was actually like, but my face flushed and my fingers tingled whenever I looked at her, so I knew she was the one.

Since I lacked the nerve to say hello, I thought the best way to introduce myself would be to write a poem about this really cool guy who is totally into this girl but is too shy to do anything about it. At the end of the poem, he finally approaches her, and it turns out they’re a perfect match!

My plan was to give it to her on the last day of class, she would read it, and then we’d start up a magical conversation. This poem idea, urged on by a few caring but misguided friends, seemed foolproof.

I chickened out, of course. On the last day of class, I wrote my phone number on the inside of the envelope I’d put the poem in, approached her with a mumbled, “Hi, this is for you,” and walked away as fast as I could.

My family left for vacation that afternoon, and I spent the entire agonizing trip wondering if she had called me back. As soon as we returned home, I raced to the answering machine: Had she called? She had!

I’ll be forever grateful she that had the kindness to phone a timid, nerdy kid she didn’t know and who had given her a creepy poem. That one act boosted my self-esteem in ways that can’t be measured. It also gave me some wacky ideas about using poems to woo a girl.

Anyway, I called her up, we chatted, and then she dropped a bombshell: She asked me if I knew she had a boyfriend. I hadn’t even considered that possibility! But I told her that was fine, no big deal, I thought she was cool and I just wanted to be friends.

I didn’t talk to her again for the rest of the summer.

Funny little coda: The next year, I got to know her better through a mutual friend. After a few group excursions, I realized that we had absolutely nothing in common, and that those months and months of pining had been for naught. Such is life.

Actually, not totally for naught. For a brief period we flirted. She used to take these little pictures of tigers out of a coloring book and color them purple.

I still have those little purple tigers.

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