They rode hard, searching for the high score and trying to get their initials on the end screen, and they only accepted quarters as payment. They were the sons of arcade and they rode that coin op road as long as they could before the world went indoors and plugged into their consoles. They were so proud of their arcade gaming skills that they tattooed their highest scores on their arms and wore patches of all the games they'd beaten, and when they sauntered into the last remaining arcades those who still hung out there put their quarters away and went home.