A block and a half beyond the Freemont Experience in downtown Las Vegas sits Insert Coin(s), a “Videolounge Gamebar” at 512 Fremont St. I haven’t been to every big retro arcade across the country, but I hit a lot of them while working on my book Invading Spaces and had hoped to hit Insert Coin(s) the last time I was in Vegas. Unfortunately we had the kids with us that time, which meant we ended up visiting the family-friendly Pinball Hall of Fame over the more adult-oriented Insert Coin(s). This time around, no kids meant I was able to finally swing by the arcade.

Although the walk to Insert Coin(s) from the Freemont Street Experience is a short one, those two blocks make a difference. Perhaps at other times the sidewalk is more well it and filled with revelers; at 9:45pm on a Friday night with the bright lights and crowds to our backs it was dark and kind of scary.

Outside the barcade we spoke briefly with the bouncer who informed us that after 10pm Insert Coin(s) has a cover charge — $5 for locals and $10 for out-of-towners. We arrived roughly fifteen minutes before the club started charging a cover, which was a good thing as I had three people in tow who were only there to appease my curiosity, none of whom would have dropped $10 to do so.

In stark contrast to the other retro arcades I’ve visited, including the 1984 Arcade in Missouri, the Arkadia Retrocade in Arkansas, and FunSpot in New Hampshire, Insert Coin(s) is definitely a playground for the 21 and over crowd. Those other arcades are well-lit places, full of color and children. Insert Coin(s) on the other hand is a throwback to the “darker” (and I mean that literally, not figuratively) arcades of the past. Other than the glowing monitors, marquees and televisions, the main source of light in the room comes from the room’s centerpiece, a glowing bar that changes color.

The right-hand side of the room is filled with over-sized vinyl booths that sit behind home gaming consoles hooked to flat screen televisions. According to the arcade’s website, patrons with a bar tab of $25 or more get to play those systems for free. The rear of the bar housed a DJ setup. There wasn’t a DJ there during our visit, but that didn’t stop a couple of drunk girls from dancing with one another.

The real draw for me were the sixty arcade games lined up down the left hand side of the room. The lineup of games was exactly what I was both expecting and hoping to see, with machines ranging from the classics of the early 80s to the hottest fighting games from the late 90s. Along with all the usual classics one would hope to find, a couple of less-common machines caught my eye including Star Wars Trilogy, Tapper, and 720. Other than 720, it looked to me like all the machines were turned on and had good, working monitors. (I can tell you from personal experience that 720 machines are a pain in the ass to own.)

Insert Coin(s) offers retro gamers a different side of the token to consider. With their resident DJs and omnipresent glowing bar, there’s more to Insert Coin(s) than just a large selection of classic games. And, of yeah, they have a large selection of classic games! A different business model than the other retro arcades I’ve visited results in a different experience. Although I was only able to spend a short amount of time in the arcade, I’ll be adding Insert Coin(s) on to my “must stop” list of Vegas hot spots. A quarter is bound to last me a lot longer in Donkey Kong than it will in a slot machine!

This weekend, Morgan and I attended a birthday party at Celebration Station which, if you’ve not been or don’t have one near you, is essentially a Chuck E. Cheese clone. They have pizza, arcade games, lots of outdoor activities, and animatronic … dogs.

Below are a few pictures I snapped at the party.

Down the left-hand side of the arcade sat all the racing games, lined up and ready to go.

And here are some of the shooting games.

Upstairs, tucked away in the corner, were three pinball machines. The middle one was turned off, but I did play the other two. Good times. I think that may have been my first time on that WWF table. Definitely old school, “brother”. Tales from the Crypt is a good but not great table. It’s too bad the Addams Family machine is out of order. Maybe next time.

Here is a few of the first floor, taken from the second. Despite how this picture makes it look, the game mix downstairs is surprisingly close to being split 50/50 between actual arcade games and ticket dispensers.

Eventually the party moved outside. Did I mention it was 105 degrees on Saturday? Morgan said it wasn’t too hot out there on the water bumper boats. I can tell you, it was pretty hot standing on the sidelines, watching the bumper boats.

After the boats, Morgan spun a few laps on the go-karts before I called a heat mercy rule and split. It’s amazing how much bribery one can get out of a $2 snowcone.

Also, all you Apple haters can suck it. The iPhone 4S takes amazing pictures when you forget to bring your DSLR camera …

The single most frustrating part of collecting arcade games has been the amount of maintenance it takes to keep them running. As a kid I had no idea how much time and effort was spent in keeping these machines running — then again back then when these machines were new, I suspect they weren’t quite so fragile.

Sometimes it’s the cold of winter that does them in; sometimes, the heat of summer. Moving them always makes me nervous. I can’t tell you how many machines I’ve bought in working condition in other states, only to have them arrive in Oklahoma, non-working. Sometimes it’s simply the aging process that does them in. That seems to have been Shinobi’s fate.

I paid somewhere around $200 for this machine, maybe 10 years ago. This is the third Shinobi machine I have owned. Shinobi boards have what is known as a suicide battery on them. You can read more about them here if you want, but all you really need to know is that when the battery dies, the game dies. With the first Shinobi machine I owned, the battery had leaked battery acid all over the PCB, killing the sound. The second (and nicest) of the three machines I own still works find, but I was so nervous about it dying that while at an auction, I picked up this machine. I’ve always referred to this one as my “spare” Shinobi.

Collectors are weird, I get it.

Because we moved and I don’t have the space, recently I put all of my games up for sale, including both Shinobi machines. I’m trying to get $250 for the nicer one and $200 for this one. Last night I went over to check on the machine and, wouldn’t you know it … it’s dead. Death by suicide battery, I think.

The drop dead date to be out of my storage unit is February 14th. With no time left for troubleshooting or working on machines, Shinobi had a hand in its own fate. I removed the remaining working parts (the monitor, the power supply, the control panel, and the coin door) and then … this happened.

This is me, smashing $200 and throwing it away.

So anyway, a funny thing happened last night. Before I could move this machine into the garage overnight for storage, I had to clean out a spot. One of the things in that spot was an old laptop case. I was just about to throw it away when I decided to check all the pockets. Inside the pockets I found three birthday/anniversary cards from 2003. That was the year Susan and I went to Vegas for our anniversary. One of the cards had $160 in cash inside it. A second card had $20 inside. A third one had a Target gift card with another $20 on it.

$200, the same amount as the cabinet I destroyed.

I took this as a sign from the universe that everything’s going to be okay.

Universe, don’t let me down.

After spinning my wheels for the past several weeks, yesterday I sold five arcade games … and the funny part was, three of them didn’t even work.

One of the most important parts of sales and marketing is knowing your audience, and that’s something I’m definitely encountering in my efforts to sell these machines.

There are lots of reasons why people buy arcade games. Most regular people might think that the only reason to buy an arcade machine would be to play it, but there are actually several other reasons. Sometimes, arcade enthusiasts will buy a machine just for the parts. I just sold my old Robocop machine for $150. Even though it’s not a very desirable game to own, the buyer got a working monitor ($100), the Robocop board ($50), plus a Midway cabinet ($50) and all the other parts (joysticks, buttons, a power supply, coin door, etc.) For someone who needs and can use the parts, it was a good deal — and I made my money back on that one, so everybody’s happy.

Other reason someone might buy a game would be for the cabinet itself. Take for example my Rampart machine:

As you can tell by the marquee, this was originally a Gauntlet II cabinet. For comparison, here’s a picture of another Gauntlet II machine (that I used to own):

Back to knowing your market; if I advertise this machine to a “non-collector”, I would advertise it as a working Rampart machine, and leave it at that. If I were to advertise it to a group of collectors, I would refer to it as a working and complete Gauntlet II cabinet that currently has Rampart installed in it. A collector is much more likely to convert this machine back to play Gauntlet II than they would be to leave it as a Rampart machine. A non-collector most likely wouldn’t care about the cabinet.

And that explains how I was able to sell three games yesterday that didn’t even work. One of them was an empty Donkey Kong, Jr. cabinet. Even with no innards, the cabinet was worth something to someone who will likely turn it back into a dedicated Nintendo machine. I also sold an old gutted Atari Gravitar/Black Widow cabinet and my non-working Rampage World Tour. I don’t know what the buyer plans on doing with the former, but the latter will most likely be converted into a Multicade of some sort, with its existing parts either being sold or re-used on another project.

I’m just starting to figure out this business while trying to get out of it at the same time.

Okay, I’ll admit it; yesterday’s post was a little depressing. I wrote it after moving 18 arcade games and coming to the realization that I simply don’t have the space or time to continue this hobby. It’s one thing to say it; it’s another thing to hear it from your aching back.

What I neglected to share with you all were all the good times I had with my arcade. Here are a few of those.

When we bought the house in 2002, what became known as “the arcade” was simply a shed. The previous home owner did woodworking as (we guess) a hobby. When we took ownership of the house, the shed was full of scrap wood, sawdust, and spiders. As I said yesterday, it was Susan who rallied my friends and family and surprised me with a complete remodel of the shed for my 30th birthday. I can honestly say I know what it’s like to be one one of those home makeover shows.

Originally I only had two arcade cabinets out there: Shinobi and Bucky O’Hare. They had been stored out in the garage, previously. Mason really enjoyed the air hockey table back then. Selling it is just one of the decisions I regret.

I spent the next few years attending auctions and buying and selling (but mostly buying) games. I never got the selling part down all that well. Three years later in 2006, the arcade looked like this:

Lots of cool things happened in 2008. The first of which was, I was interviewed by an AP reporter about my game collection. They even sent an AP photographer out to take pictures of my games! The article ran in newspapers across the country (I have a framed copy of the one that ran in the Chicago Times). Here is the picture that ran with the story:

The second thing was, friends of mine from all over the country came to Oklahoma to attend the Oklahoma Electronic Gaming Expo, and came to my house afterwards to enjoy my arcade. Friends of mine from Arkansas, Texas, and even New Mexico made the trek out.

The third thing that happened in 2008 was I published my second book. Invading Spaces: A Beginner’s Guide to Collecting Arcade Games was a compilation of everything I had learned about the hobby up until that point. (Say, maybe I should write a sequel, covering everything I know about getting out of it!) Although Invading Spaces has not sold as well as Commodork, I still stand behind the book. I think it’s full of useful information and entertaining stories.

Probably my favorite memory of the arcade took place New Year’s Eve, 2009. That’s the night my buddy Jeff and his family came over to ring in the new year.

For this to mean anything to you, you have to know this — I can’t remember going to a single (okay, Oklahoma-based) arcade without seeing Jeff there at my side. Our moms used to take us to Crossroads Mall to let us play at Le Mans together. We rode our bikes to the old arcade down on Vandement. We walked to the bowling alley together. We went to the skating rink together. Lord knows how many hours we spent at Cactus Jack’s together. The first time I ever saw (and played) Gauntlet, Jeff was there; same goes for so many other games.

Jeff and I met in 1985, and started playing arcade games together probably the following day. Here we were, in 2009, playing arcade games together in my backyard.

That’s me on the left and Jeff on the right, in case you didn’t know. And with everything that picture represents, I think this one is more important to me.

That’s Jeff’s son Talon in the foreground and my son Mason in the background. If that’s not full circle, I don’t know what is.

I like to gauge my adventures based on the number of friends I walk away with, and if that’s the case, then this hobby was a success. I’ve asked dozens of people for advice and help and I’ve passed on everything I’ve learned to anyone who has asked — so, to everyone who has lent me a hand over the years, thanks, and to everyone I’ve helped over the years, you’re welcome. ;)

I’m not totally getting out of the hobby, but I will be making a personal change from “that guy who owns 30 games” to “some guy who owns 3”. There’s a part of me that feels like I’m dumping part of my identity — I mean let’s face it, telling people “I’m the guy that used to own a lot of arcade games” isn’t nearly as impressive as inviting people over, opening the door to the arcade, and watching their jaws drop.

As I explained yesterday, the loss of my building means the loss of this hobby, at least for now. There are big parts of me that are a bit thankful for this. At some point, this hobby took on a life of its own. Over the past few years I have definitely spent more time working on my machines than I have playing or enjoying them. As a kid these giant hunks of wood seemed indestructible. Today, having worked on so many of them, they seem more fragile than they should That’s what I get for buying low end games. Had I stuck to buying one or two at a time and fixing them up before buying more I probably wouldn’t have burned out the way I did.

It’s tough to love and loathe something at the same time, but I managed it.

My immediate plans are to sell the games that are working and in good condition, and either fix or part out the rest. I waited just a tad too long to try and pull this off. (A month before Christmas would have been perfect, but … eh, hindsight.) Each buyer will probably have to endure my stories of how and where I obtained each cabinet one last time, and the selling of the cabinet will get appended on to the end of those stories.