It’s Impossible NOT to Pay For Candy Crush

At first, I never wanted to try the game.  I’m a little late coming in, I know.  But I would watch the annoying screen shots, see the commercials, and get initiated by Facebook ads every time my friends joined, leveled up, or wanted to bug me to give them some bonus for a game I didn’t have.  I got about 20 alerts from friends A DAY just to play this game.  And just watching the ads gave me a sugar high.  I refused.

Then, one day, I was bored.  I wanted to see what this was all about.  Now I’m a Candy Crush addict.  What I didn’t know at the time of joining that this “free” game is impossible to stay “free.”  I thought I could do it.  I mean, on principal, I feel if you pay for a game just once, that’s fine.  You own it, it’s yours, entirely.  But this idea just to pay for bonuses, bombs, cheats, etc… to me it’s just stupid.  I mean, sure, sometimes you have to give money to make money.  But I’m not making money, I’m matching candy.  I figured I was on to them.  I was going to play this game without ever having to spend a dime.  It was my mission.  I wasn’t going to pay a single cent.  Because I figured once I started paying, I would never stop.

I played for hours, weeks, maybe a month.  Patiently going through lives and doing every free way to earn bonuses, lives, candy, bombs, and whatever other fun shaped sugar high colors they gave me.  I never bothered a friend for anything, never paid a cent.  I made it through whole worlds.  I thought I was smarter than they were.  I found the glitch.  Patience, not payment.

Yeah, well, they designed for people like me too.  I got to some point in the game where you had to “buy” a ticket on a helicopter to take you to the next world to continue.   This was the second time I reached such a place, but the first time all I had to patiently do was wait the next day to board… I think it was a bus.  So, I turned off my game <gasp> and waited patiently for the game to reload my lives and cross over in 24 hours.

Only it didn’t.  In insisted I either pay for my ticket, or bother friends for one.  I refused to pay.  I thought about asking friends, but Candy Crush kindly reminded me that I only use Facebook for product coupons and discounts by liking pages.  And since I didn’t want to invite friends to a page solely dedicated to corporations that talked to one another offering more free discounts if they signed up as friends, according to Facebook and Candy Crush, I am friendless :/

I admit, it’s a little embarrassing that the people who make Candy Crush think I’m a cheap friendless loser.  However, they are kindly willing to exploit that friendlessness by now offering me no choice but to find SOME friend, or pay to continue to play.

Of course, I have friends who have Facebook.  It’s just not an app I find particularly useful in my life right now.  Okay, I think Facebook is down right stupid, old, and a bunch of trolls, catfish, and invites from people I don’t know and old friends that upon reconnecting… I find out all the reasons I STOPPED talking to them IN THE FIRST PLACE.  Not to mention the merit of Facebook is based on exactly how many friends you have, and since I’m not inclined to be friends with strangers who could be a myriad of any person in history besides the person they really are, I tend to only be friends with REAL people.  Meaning, people I’ve met and spoken to at points in my life.  That doesn’t give me a huge total.  Then, some one who saw that small total said, “Well, it makes you look like a catfish.  Unless you have thousands of “friends” people think it’s bogus.” So, being my own self makes me bogus.  So, Facebook went to coupons, likes, and anything else that could get me 20% off + free shipping.

Now, I could create a Candy Crush Friends Facebook page if I really wanted too.  Sure.  That’s the beauty of Facebook.  But, when calling in favors of good friends who really want to help you out, Candy Crush is really the least thing I would want to bother my friends about.  And Candy Crush bothered me all the time (see, 20 plus posts per day per friend that posts).  So, I’m a good enough friend to know that when I need a favor, I better make it good.  And my request for a ticket, candy bomb, or other sugar crusted cartoon treat, is not exactly the favor I have in mind when it comes to getting things I need in life.

Unfortunately, I think I’m addicted.  I close my eyes and see the little candy colors.  I almost cried when I had to uninstall the game because without a ticket, my Candy Crush dreams of finally seeing if there is, indeed, an end to the game were ruined.  I want to play.  I tried Candy Crush Soda, but I can’t stand it.  The little bottles are too hard to see, the concept of the game is lost.  Too much going on for a game I want to relax and think just enough through, but not strategize how the soda effects what direction the candy falls from and how it will impact the next 20 moves.  And, by the time I figure it out, I’m out of lives.  At least on Candy Crush, I had the chance to play and it was fun.

So, I’m writing this in what feels like real Sugar Crush Withdrawal.  I may need rehab, or some kind of 12 step meeting.  I have downloaded the game twice again so far just to see if it would give me another life by patiently waiting for it.

I guess it would be easier to go out and find a life.  Or just pay the .99 cents for a ticket.  But, I found in the play store, if I click “Find similar apps” there are a whole bunch of other rip offs, just like Candy Crush.  Of course, just like Candy Crush they want your money, your friends, and whatever else they can exploit to keep you paying for your addiction.  Like any drug dealer, there’s always another one down the street willing to take your life away.  But at least it can keep me playing a game, although slightly different.  It FEELS like a different Candy Crush level at least.  Hopefully I’ll get bored of this addiction, and move onto something else all together.  In the meantime, writing this has taken me away from my new addiction: Ice Crush.  I must get back to that now, I think my lives have refilled.