My Xbox One sat cradled in its box for days following its arrival on Christmas Day, like an expensive and underpowered baby Jesus. While I was keen to discover the delights offered from a misfiring Master Chief and a loud mouth with the sense of humour of a Year 9 Banter Twitter account, one thing was holding me back. Like Chuck Berry, my new toy had no particular place to go. I needed a shelf.
Being what is often referred to as "a man", I obviously didn't start this adventure the way I probably should have: amazon.co.uk, search, shelf, buy. No, of course not, but in fairness I didn't need any ordinary shelf – oh no. Let me paint a picture for you, with words written below.
In my bedroom, where I hoped my Xbox One would reside along with myself, there is a chest of drawers. Pre-Christmas Day 2014 (but not before October 2014), this chest was home to my PS4 and a variety of other everyday items – the stuff that has no home and is repeatedly dumped there so often it earns squatters rights. I needed to create more space by placing some kind of 'desk shelf' onto the surface, straddling the PS4 and creating more usable area. This was my quest.
Initially I tried various setups. I placed one console on top of the other and vice versa, but this was more unstable than the eurozone. I considered if it would at all be possible to place one of them inside a drawer, using some kind of elaborate cabling method and holes. This, too, proved to be completely unviable and I started to understand how Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen felt during the late 90s.
I eventually succumed to online retailers, searching for standing shelves that would do the job. £40! Fourty POUNDS! This wasn't what I had expected a piece of wood on legs (legs I'd be required to affix, at that) would cost, but I could see why. The units being offered were sleek, featured glass, and didn't look shit. Style and elegance has never been top of my agenda, and there was no way I was going to spend that much on a utility item. I'll happily blow over £20 on a pizza that makes me feel ill and question my diet, but I draw the line at things that will fulfil a useful purpose. I am a man, after all.
Twitter would surely give me the answer I craved, the service now considered the most trustworthy source of advice, pipping the letters page in the Daily Mail. It didn't (you can see my desperate plea for help here), instead blowing the whole situation wide open and into a national problem. I didn't foresee unleashing such a big bag of worms. Worms that would even give Kevin Bacon nightmares.
I had no end in sight and my Xbox One was still homeless. I'd started to wonder if I'd ever get to play my new console properly – the fact I was still busy working through Advanced Warfare on PS4 and therefore had no need to play Xbox is besides the point – but ventured forth to find a solution. There had to be one. And I was right. There was. I found it.
Rummaging about in my shed I came across my old TV cabinet, a DIY job that had plastic legs that could be screwed into place faster than a 4MM Pozi Countersunk screw being screwed into place with a DeWalt DC100KA-GB 18V 1.3Ah Ni-Cd Cordless Combi Drill. And that was using my hands.
Suddenly a wave of brilliance hit me like a Dimitar Berbatov tsunami. I could use the centerpiece of this old unit to construct a shelf on legs. Five minutes later, thanks to the legs I've previously explained, the mini shelf was ready for action, standing tall and to attention – it could do little else as it was a shelf with legs.
I ran to my room. This was it. I knew my struggle was over. The legs stood around my PS4 as if the unit had been born for just his purpose, the surface the ideal size for the monster-sized Xbox One. I plugged it in. This was a triumphant finish to what had been a traumatic couple of days, during which I'd spent hours (at least two) agonising over the shelf issue. I needn't worry myself any longer. It was a new dawn, a new day, a new life, for me, and I was feeling good, I mused to myself smugly.
The funny thing is, I got more satisfaction out of this most basic of salvage jobs than I did playing Halo: The Master Chief Collection. I'm not sure if that is a vicious indictment of the current state of the games industry or more confirmation that I'm getting old. I've still only played on my Xbox One for about 60 minutes.
As Chuck Berry once said: "Of the five most important things in life, health is first, education or knowledge is second, and wealth is third. I forget the other two." I doubt either was a shelf for an Xbox. What was the point?
Update:
Due to popular demand, here's a what the final shelf looks like. This is an artist's impression, but trust me, it's the exact same thing, but less jaggy as it's not compressed in real life.
