RIP to Simagurutchi, the first Tamagotchi I had at Tamagotchi Uni. If I’m being honest, your loss won’t weigh me down, but please know that bringing you to my friend’s wedding was a great thing.
My union and Simagurutchi’s started out as a work order—Bandai Namco sent me a unit to review—and quickly grew into a single entity. Determined to get the most out of my new Tamagotchi Uni, I decided to wear it as much as possible during an upcoming trip across the country to a friend’s wedding. Thankfully, Tamagotchi technology and fashion have evolved over the years, and varsity is no different. This particular model of wearable pet grooming toy comes with a rubber strap so I can wear it as a watch with the world’s least sexy silhouette.
I carried it to the airport. I wore it on the plane. To my surprise, I didn’t even have to take it off for TSA. But wearing my Tamagotchi in public was the start of his fatal malaise. I was sitting in the back of my friend’s 2008 Honda Odyssey when the watch made a high-pitched beep. It was one thing to take a Tamagotchi on a trip; It was another thing to forcibly subject everyone else around me to his sharp screams.
Once silenced, there was no turning back. Since I have attention issues, I might as well have tossed my Tamagotchi into a black hole without the annoying beeping reminding me when to feed the pet (although I wore it on my wrist for most of the weekend). Feedings were sparse and I didn’t realize it, but my pet’s well-being was slowly declining.
I wore the full Tamagotchi, chunky bracelet and all to my boyfriend’s wedding. It happened to be a perfect match for my rainbow French tip nails and colorful floral dress, which I felt was worthy of a California wedding. For something this big, and let’s be honest it looks cheesy, it kind of held the whole fit together with a big pop of pink color. I was ready for the wedding. If only I could have said the same thing about Simagurutchi.
Far from feeling overly stuffy at the whimsical wedding, my Tamagotchi watch felt right at home. All wedding attendees went to a nearby park to take photos after the ceremony. Children and adults twisted ribbons attached to wooden dowels. Another group of friends created giant puppet replicas of the groom and bride that solemnly towered over the party. A man in brass spectacles played a giant music box on which a stuffed monkey with matching brass spectacles sat, entertaining the guests. While we were taking a group photo, the photographer asked us all to stand in front of the window, “prom style.” Of course, as recommended by my supportive friends, I placed the Tamagotchi side out.
I chatted to a college friend about it, and while I was a little nervous about talking to them, I was armed with the ultimate icebreaker: my Tamagotchi. I wanted to show you a mini-game that uses the pedometer in the clock and challenges you to mirror dance like a Wii mini-game. I tried clicking on the screen but all I saw was the image of a ghost with big lips and a single tear running down the side of his face. It was Simagurutchi and it was gone.
Sitting with a friend and my partner, I let out a collective “Oh no” and immediately got to work figuring out how to get a new pet. Neither key combination seemed to work until a friend remembered the days he had Tamagotchi as a kid and realized there might have been a small button on the back that could be used to reset the device.
I took the watch off, turned it over and there it was, the tiny pen-point sized button on the back. The only problem was that we were in a park and didn’t have a pen. We asked a lady in black and thin, square sunglasses if she had a pen; she didn’t. We asked the man who was playing what appeared to be a giant music box decorated with tiny dioramas of carnival-goers — he didn’t have any either. We went from person to person in vain until a friend looked into his black leather belt bag. He had no pen, but a fine-toothed comb. While I was holding the Tamagotchi, my friend spread the comb and pressed the button with a tooth.
Within moments we reset the toy and reset our lives. I opened a new egg and took on a new underdeveloped clump, and I cheered with my friends in the California sun.
