Most of the treats of the past have gone. The music halls. The Woodbines. Seaside towns are not the bright attractions of previous years. The crowds have vanished, along with the quality.
But what has remained the same are the arcades. From two penny slots to the toy grabber, these are windowless spaces where the world is forgotten.
I sometimes wondered why arcades exist by the sea. There was no obvious link between the ever crashing waves and the machines inside. If anything the electricity and the water was a terrible potential combination.
This thought gnawed at me during my go on Street Fighter 2. Until I noticed that every plug from every machine trailed under a thick, black door at the back. One with a thin shaft of light trickling through. I had to have a look.
The room on the other side was almost cathedral sized. This made no sense in terms of the building’s architecture, but allowed the giant crab to tower over the room.
Each cable connected up to one of those thin legs. Lights crackled between the claws, and two stick eyes swivelled towards me.
The arcades would not close anytime soon.
