Ever since I emerged from the caves of Mt. Moon I was focused on getting to Cerulean City as fast as possible. As tired as I was after that subterranean ordeal, I refused to let my pace slacken. Fortunately, I didn’t run into any time-consuming battles along the way, and the city was a pretty straight shot from the cavern exit. But to be perfectly honest, now that I’m finally here…I kind of just want to take a nap somewhere.
Somewhere without Zubats.
How long have I been wandering in these nightmarish caverns? It’s impossible to say. This place is built like a labyrinth, and its twisting passages seem to distort my perception of space and time. It feels like I’ve been walking for miles, but these tunnels look so similar to me that I could end up back where I started and I’d never be able to tell. Sometimes I feel like it would be pointless to go on.
Before I went to challenge the Pewter Gym, I thought it would be prudent to go heal up my Pokemon. The forest wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared, but those Bug Catchers had gotten a few decent hits in. And by that I mean that Mr. Suds still had some String Shot stuck to his shell, and I think Chuckles may have scuffed his paw after punching all those Kakunas in the face. Truly, this world is dark and full of peril.
I know I shouldn’t be complaining, but after the ordeal involved in capturing Chuckles, the Caterpie was almost a dissapointment. I honestly felt bad for the little guy, with his big, shiny eyes staring up at me. But, I knew that serious trainers needed a lot of variety on their team. And after getting walloped in the ol’ ultra balls by a fighting type, I thought that a bug sounded about my speed. Plus, I could barely walk to the Pokémart without tripping over at least four of the damn things.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m grateful for the Pokémon Centers. The people who work there are polite, competent, and efficient — you never have to wait for more than a few minutes — and, of course, it’s all completely free. It’s a miracle of public health care, really. To top it all off, the staff are unfailingly cheerful. But I can’t quite shake the feeling that sometimes they’re just a little bit too cheerful. The nurses are always so perky and chirpy, and yet they see some pretty nasty stuff every day. How do they do it? Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I had recently been through a pretty stressful experience, after all. But as I sat on the plush waiting room chair, reading an issue of PokéLife that was published before I had the ability to form coherent sentences, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had entrusted Mr. Suds to the care of a facility staffed entirely by identical robots.