On a rainy and windswept autumnal Glasgow afternoon, I waited by the window for my dad to get in from work. I was fed up with Donkey Kong Country anyway. It was the Game Genie code that enabled me to get my mitts on semi-new games for a fraction of the price, so long as I was willing to part with some of my own. This playground of unwanted titles was a monolith of opportunity, and a bargaining tool as far as I saw it. The second-hand games shelf changed that. Convincing my dad to half me in for such luxuries was a task harder still. At nine years old I naturally had no source of income, and thus saving my pocket money for fully priced retail games was an arduous, and at times seemingly impossible task. "Swap Shop" it read, in the same garish white and red of the EB masthead. I still remember the huge sign that hung tentatively above the single shelf near the back of the store, next to the register. It was 1995 when I learned that my local Electronics Boutique had a used games section.
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