Arcade offers Games N’At

Ms. Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Donkey Kong and the Simpsons attract arcade fans into the gray… Ms. Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Donkey Kong and the Simpsons attract arcade fans into the gray cinderblock building on Josephine Street on the South Side.

Inside, the room is bright. Some college guys play X-Box games on big screen televisions in the lounge. A tall man wearing a denim shirt and blue apron stands behind the snack bar, greeting customers as they enter.

This is Bill Jones, the 47-year-old owner of Games N’At. Bring your own beer after 8 p.m. and Bill will put it in the refrigerator for you.

The arcade is open Thursday through Sunday. Customers pay by the hour Friday through Sunday for unlimited use of eight pinball machines, three pool tables and two air hockey tables; retro games like Ms. Pac-Man, DigDug and Asteroid; newer games like Area 51, EA Sports PGA Golf and Trophy Hunter; and X-Box and computer games.

But today is a Thursday, so customers pay $7 for a whole day of unlimited gaming. Members of the crowd, mostly people in their 20s and 30s, range from sweat-shirted college kids to members of the Drifter’s car club with spiked hair, leather and chains.

In the billiard room, three boys shoot pool at the table closest to a framed picture of Kramer from “Seinfeld.” The two other tables are occupied by teens in punk clothing.

The retro room is unoccupied, but the Alley Cats puck bowling machine calls out, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” while the old-school arcade games play their theme songs.

Bill and his wife, Marian, 58, used to run Triangle Messenger Service out of the same cinder block building that’s now the home to Games N’At.

“Everyone told us that arcades don’t work anymore, that they can’t make any money, but they said that about Triangle Messenger, too,” Bill said of the rush delivery service he owned for 19 years. “You just need to plug away at it.”

Bill had to shut down Triangle Messenger when insurance rates spiked after Sept. 11, 2001. Though the Jones knew nothing about running an arcade, they thought it would make a good business because they believed there was nothing like it in the area.

Bill, Marian and a carpenter spent three months renovating the building, and it opened April 4, 2003, but the transformation didn’t stop there. They just finished converting a garage into another party room, and the second floor will soon have a ping-pong table and four PCs just for gaming.

Marian wants to put a bowling alley upstairs, too. She said Bill thinks she’s nuts, but come next year, she said, you’ll see one.

Bill enters the billiard room through saloon-style doors that connect to the snack bar area. He stands against the wall near the touch-screen games, keeps his eye on the pool players and lights a cigarette. Axl Rose wails “Sweet Child ‘O Mine” on the old jukebox.

“Hey, Bill, when’s the computer room upstairs going to be ready?” asked one of the teens playing pool.

“In the next week or two,” he replied. The teen chats up Bill while he smokes.

Meanwhile, Marian helps Todd Lesesne plan his 28th birthday party. Lesesne lives in Mt. Oliver and is a district justice clerk for Allegheny County courts Downtown. Lesesne said he chose Games N’At to host his party because it is “good, clean fun,” and he wants to keep the business in the city.

As well as organizing parties, Marian takes care of ticket prizes and decorations.

Marian doesn’t order the prizes out of a catalog like other arcades. Instead, she finds the prizes at garage sales and discount stores. The prizes include a giant stuffed frog, a bingo set, ninja warrior weapons, a nutcracker, a 26-foot retractable dog leash, stuffed “Be Mine” hearts and push pops.

No room in Games N’At has a particular theme. Marian says the place is “eclectic.” Anything fits, and every week there is something new. A leg lamp identical to the one from “A Christmas Story” stands in the lounge. Einstein rides a bicycle by the soda fountain. A green-spotted cow sits on the counter in the billiard room.

On the way out, the last Triangle Messenger Service bike hangs over the retro room and a life-size cut out of Elvis says, “Thank you very much.”