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The Life of the Average GTA Player


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So it's a lot to read, but i wrote a fairly short story about the overall experience of people who place this game. This is entirely written based on my point of view, but I imagine it relates to most of the game's playerbase. Hope you enjoy!



You arrive at Los Santos, and you start off doing small time crime while sleeping in the backseat of your car, after few weeks, you finally stole/made enough money to buy yourself a decent apartment. You now have a place to sleep in, and you have a space to store cars. You start street racing, making more money, killing a boatload of people, making more money, doing favors for people higher up in the food chain, making more money. You start living the good life. You have an awesome apartment, a garage filled with High End sports cars, you can afford to invite strippers to your apartment for private (or public, depending on whether or not you invite your friends to come watch, or have a dance of their own). Then you and your buddies decide that you can make more money by robbing banks. So you're a bank robber now, and it works for a while. You're making a couple millions dollars every week. And then it happens. The economy inflates.
The next big thing is now three times the price of the last. You buy it, not knowing any better, but then a couple of months down the line, something new comes out and its even more expensive than the last. You can't tell yet, but this is the beginning of your financial demise.
Over time, you look at your bank account, and you notice that it's starting to get smaller with everything that you've been buying. So how do you fix this problem? You get the idea of starting a drug business. You purchase a small hangout for your colleagues, which hurt your bank account in itself, then you purchase another space for your product. You start working the business, making your product, selling your product, occasionally getting your business disrupted by assholes who don't have anything better to do than ruin everyone else's fun. Then you realize, you're still not making ends meet. New things are coming out, they're expensive as f*ck, CLOTHES cost as much as a high-end sports car would normally cost, you look at your bank account, and it's still getting smaller and smaller. So you move on. You start a second business: selling stolen cars. You purchase an office building for your business (OUCH, MY BANK ACCOUNT!!!), then you buy a warehouse to store the cars (OUCH, MY BANK ACCOUNT!!!), and you start your business. Everything goes fairly similar to the drug business: stealing cars, selling cars, occasionally getting the cars blown up by some asshole who has nothing better to do than ruin everyone else's fun.
Then you look at your bank account and you realize you're broke. You get desperate. What can you do? You decide that desperate times call for desperate measures. You go into your own personal garages, and you sell your least favorite car. That wasn't enough, so you sell your second least favorite car, then your third, then your fourth, then eventually you get to the point where you now have three empty 10-car garages, and one 10-car garage with three cars left in it...and you still can't afford the stuff that is coming out. Your drug business is bankrupt because you lost interest in it, your car business is still afloat, but you don't want to do it anymore. Meanwhile, everyone out in the city is bombing each other with military equipment, so leaving your apartment is extremely dangerous. Your bank account is still getting lower, you're getting to the point where you might have to file for bankruptcy. You're depressed. Is this it? Three years of hard work and great memories for nothing? You're now at a point where there's nothing you can do but sit in your kitchen, eating ramen that you cooked with Fiji Water, listening to sad music on the radio, thinking about the parties that were once held in this room, the champage and drunk people on the floor, the strippers on your couch, the cocaine on the coffee table...it's all gone, and it the only way it would happen again is there was some sort of miracle. You look at your bank account. $84. Your lights get cut off. You shoot yourself.
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Shark Card, problem solved :p


Nah, if I ever went down to $84. I'd just go back to how I started. It wouldn't bore me to do it again. But it would be a big ask :lol:


PS: Paragraphs! :p

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Sounds about right! You forgot the part where you meet a modder an angel who gives you all the money you could ever ask for ;)

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Why not continue raising money from the businesses you invested in?

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We each spin our own yarns. I plan on spawning into my tinsel garage jumping on my oppressor. Driving out and jumping to the roof across from the main lsc and explosive sniping people's feet.


Still making great memories.

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The Wandering Hunter

get off plane


hear about bati glitch

buy sh*t

hear about adder glitch

buy sh*t

hear about hooker glitch

buy sh*t




hear about dm glitch

buy everything that's left

wait for hunter

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I spoke to my user, who fortunately makes enough money up there in the real world so that he can afford to send me down a shark card or two when there is anything I need.








Why the f*ck am I talking as if I am my character?


This sh*t is too weird.

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Very well written :)


You forgot to mention the part where you decide to become a CEO and move illegal contraband across the state before the drug business and cars.. or maybe you just chose not to ;)

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Amazing story. Stellar. 10/10, would read again.

The only problem I have is that it isn't realistic. I've put my own spin on it. Let me know what you think...

You march off the plane, finally arriving in Los Santos. For years you've saved up money to fly out here and your dream is finally becoming true. As you pull your luggage a black man shouts loudly at you. You don't know this guy but he insists you get in his car. The shock keeps you from saying anything as you're ushered in his car. Maybe he's mistaken you for someone else? The drive is him filling you in on the criminal activities of Los Santos and terror seizes your throat. It isn't long that you find yourself in a stolen car and racing it against the black man. He tells you to steal your own car and gives you a pistol. This is too much too quick!

You tried finding a job but nothing pops up. It isn't until you spot a lonesome Blista with the door open in a parking lot that you say "screw it" and steal it. The black man hooked you up with a location to sell the car, LS Customs, and you get some money for it. As you realize your funds are too low to afford a place to stay (hotels are booked everywhere) you decide, with shame and regret, to stay on the bad side of the law and grab as many cars as possible. Soon, you get random calls. Simeon. Ron. wtf is a Gerald? Who are these people? You reluctantly meet up with these people and they bring you in into the world of drugs, guns, cars and more drugs.

This goes on for a while until winter where the world you grew to understand is flipped upside down. Every car isn't a normal Blista but a chromed out supercar. Civilians running around with weapons killing everyone. Cops going insane. "f*ck this," you say so you hop on the next flight back to Vice City.

The end. Written by George R.R Martin.

Edited by livejoker
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(Skip to the part right before you begin selling your cars)


...On the verge of desperation and resisting the temptation to bid your vehicles goodbye, you contact a shady, sinful clan you heard of back when you moved here. Following their advice, you spend the last of your money on a Mobile Operations Center, which, according to them, has the uncanny ability to bend spacetime and spawn duplicate copies of your cars.


At first you are very doubtful, but what can you do? Your bank account is empty. There is no going back now.


You take out your first supercar. An Adder. The sight of it brings back memories of what seems like an eternity ago, when this thing was all the rage. Risking losing a car you have such a strong emotional bond with, you reluctantly follow the sinners' instructions. You cross your fingers, hoping it works.


A few hours later, you have managed to clone your Adder 20 times over. The next few days are spent going back and forth between your garage and the local LSC, with the mechanic staring in awe as you bring Adder after Adder to the shop. Your office, once totally empty, is now full of cash piles.


Fast forward to today and you're taking your gold-plated helicopter to your newly purchased super yacht. An old associate named Martin Madrazo calls, but you swiftly hang up. He's not worth your time. You lean over the railing and gaze at the sea, thinking of when the sinners saved you from bankruptcy.

Edited by ntinoskonsta
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The Wandering Hunter

your dream has finally come true as you leave the plane and lamar takes you to do a race. why is this race not starting?

any time now...?

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Actually you spawn outside of the hotel near little big horn street in the beggining. That hotel should've had an interior. It shouldve been your first residence and you would pay 60- 100 dollars a night. When i created my new character a month ago i used to pretend that room with the suitcase by the door was hers and i used to spend time smoking ciggarets by the balcolny before i went out to make money.

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This is kind of not like my own story.


I hopped off the plane in LSIA and didn't even make it to the Rent A Car counter before I was hit up about a job by no less than three mid tier criminal bosses.

My career at that point had consisted of crappy dead end gigs at places like Best Buy and Target, so I said What the Hell, and gave it a shot.


Boy was I ever good at being bad! Well, the LS criminal scene was so bad at being bad that I looked like a criminal mastermind by comparison.


I'd crash drug deals under the pier ten times a day. This one idiot with a car dealership must have had some really deep pockets because any other business would have been out of business a week after I got to town. Los Santos is a funny city. The guy who sells garbage trucks to all the drug dealers is a genius. He has more money than Bill Gates.

In no time flat I was on top of the world. I had a legitimate criminal empire at my fingertips.


And life was good.

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To be honest, the very first part of this reminds me how stupid I was when I didn't choose the Asea when they were extremely rare as they were unobtainable from that part onwards...


Oh well,



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One of my mates actually stopped playing for a few weeks when the Asea was made buy-able. He made a new character just to get the car and showed it off whenever he could. Once he found out they added it to the in-game website for purchase he cursed loudly, closed his mic and left the game. Haven't seen him for a while after that.

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[Picking up a point in the OP's post, I wish to outline a different series of events that may occur instead...]



... and as you stand in your garage and consider which car you are going to part with first, a faint memory flickers in your mind as you look over your garage...


You remember something you had read about years before. Something you avoided doing because you felt it was morally ambiguous, and didn't think was needed. Something from an era when concepts such as "balance", "pricing", and "" once were relevant, terms you know have been long absent from the world of San Andreas, and you still believed the game's developers valued their playerbase...


Unsure if what you are considering is even still possible, you venture into previously unexplored domains of the internet, and after a few minutes, realize it is indeed feasible. With some trepidation and uncertainty, you venture forth into the most dangerous venture yet, as your garages suddenly become your most valuable assets... hint hint


And you do it again. And again. And then you invest in your second character so you can do even more. And then do it again on both characters twice more, for good measure.


All of that depression and desperation you felt before, has melted away when you realized how much more fun the game has become now that you simply stopped caring about the dollar signs on your screen.


Elated with this newfound freedom, you soon begin doing things you never did before and start seeing a side of the game you once appreciated but somehow forgot during the free mode business grind...



Flying dangerously with no regard for insurance, hospital fees, or really anything at all, because seriously who gives a f**k how much you spent to get your friend to react to a dive bombing Cargobob:





Spending an excessive amount of time trying to intentionally break the game's physics instead of complaining when they occasionally don't work correctly



Then you start driving recklessly just so you can laugh your ass off as you constantly get into awkward situations because it's now about the journey and not the destination...



Stopping to smell the burning wreckage and enjoy the screams of the pedestrians suddenly aflame instead of complaining about the traffic jam slowing down your resupply run:



You also realize that your pursuit of business ventures means you've been neglecting your nature studies, so you start paying more attention to the local wildlife on your travels.




Eventually, you realize the same means you've used to make money nearly irrelevant can be sued to start your own personal air force just because you can and you find it amusing, and not because it's actually useful in any way at all:




And the journey continues on, for even as you find flaws in the experience, even as you continue to complain about issues the game has, even as you know some others will always condemn the means you used and thereby you for using them...


... you are still having the best time you've ever had in the game to date because you've remembered it's all a videogame at the end of the day... and videogames are meant to have fun in above all other things.

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May I add my own spin to it?


Sees that I have to sell my cars, say to myself f*ck THIS sh*t, get a crew of 4 dependable guys and hit up Criminal Mastermind Challenge.


Use the money to buy a Bunker and a MOC;


Now I do I/E, with VIP works at each cool down on a sale, and making bunker stocks as passive income.


I can consistently stay afloat with only 5 million after I understood that I don't have to buy everything.

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I don't know about all that depressing, kill yourself, broke ass hobo stuff. Then again, Alleyboy ain't average. He wakes up, dresses himself up in some Versace, or Perseus, and goes to the garage and drives out in his Osiris. Then he drives around for a while, being annoyed by constant calls to buy a bunker, and goes to the nearest clothing store to piece together a new outfit, or several. After spending 48 minutes, he gets infuriated when he sees $2,300 deducted from his bank account when it could have been spent on a fresh cut, or some new kicks, but you know, average day of my character: getting robbed even when he's not doing anything.

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I had an account with zero dollars that's been on my machine for years. Then bamm he woke up one day and thought he was in single player mode but wasn't..

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