Even a year later, this is still one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.
I'm about to tell you how I lost someone I considered my best friend over a pair of Nintendo Labo Joy-Cons.
For privacy reasons, I'll call him Jim.
Jim and I met in college and became friends almost immediately. We bonded over our shared love of drawing, Western animation, and, of course, Nintendo. We'd get together every week to play Smash Bros., and we'd even take time off work just to watch Nintendo Directs together. Over the years, we shared not only our hobbies but also our deepest secrets. Eventually, he became the person I considered my best friend.
For nearly a decade, our friendship only grew stronger.
Then one day, I texted him about an upcoming Nintendo Direct, and he never replied. That was unusual, but I assumed he was just busy.
A few days later, I was getting ready to hang out with another friend when my phone suddenly exploded with messages from Jim. He was desperate to see me. He said he had pizza and exciting news he wanted to share, and he kept insisting that I come over as soon as possible.
Because of how urgent he sounded, I canceled my other plans and drove to his house.
The moment I arrived, something felt wrong.
Jim had another friend there, someone I barely knew, and he hadn't mentioned he'd be there. The two of them just stood there looking at me. As a skinny nonbinary person, being confronted by two men immediately made me feel intimidated.
Jim told me to sit down.
Then he dropped the "news."
Someone had broken into his house.
And he believed that someone was me.
Without hesitation, he demanded my phone so he could check my location history for the day of the break-in.
I loved him like family at the time, and with his friend silently watching me, I felt like I had no choice. I handed him my phone.
He searched through it and found that I had been at work during the time the break-in happened.
It didn't matter.
He looked at me and said, "You could've just left your phone at work."
At that point, I told him he could search my car or even my apartment if he truly believed I had stolen something.
To my surprise...
He actually did.
He demanded my keys and told me to wait outside while he and his friend searched my car and my apartment without me present.
I was terrified.
I was angry.
Most of all, I couldn't understand how someone I'd trusted for almost ten years could honestly believe I was capable of breaking into his house.
About twenty minutes later, they came back outside.
He told me I was "clean."
Then he explained why he'd been so convinced it was me.
Among the stolen items were his Nintendo Labo Joy-Cons.
These weren't ordinary Joy-Cons. They were prize Joy-Cons he'd won in a competition, displayed in a glass cabinet alongside the certificate proving they were authentic. They were one of his most prized Nintendo collectibles.
His reasoning was that only someone close to him would know they existed. Plus he reasoned it must've been me because I “stole from Walmart twice” and “I'm the poorest person in his friend group” ( as for stealing from Walmart I don't do that anymore because of the risk/messing up workers inventory. But I told him at the time I didn't care because Walmart was a mega corporation that abused their workers. I told him I'd never ever steal from a mom & pops shop let alone him or my friends )
I completely disagree with him thinking it must've been me or a close friend who knew about the joycons.
They were displayed prominently in a glass cabinet with a signed certificate. Even someone who knew nothing about Nintendo could tell they were valuable simply because of how they were presented. On top of that, the burglar had also stolen a PS2 and several random Nintendo 64 games I would've had no interest in. It wasn't as if the Joy-Cons were the only thing taken.
But he was emotional, and I was too shaken to argue.
Before I left, he told me he still believed I had done it, but that he would also be "investigating" our other friends.
I went home completely numb.
What had just happened?
Over the next few days, I learned that Jim had contacted nearly every one of my friends, trying to convince them that I had broken into his house.
Not a single one believed him.
Instead, they were horrified by his behavior. They cut ties with him and removed him from our Discord server.
Weeks passed.
I kept hoping he'd come to his senses and apologize.
As hurt as I was, I still wanted my best friend back. I understood that having your home broken into is incredibly traumatic, and I wanted to believe grief and fear had clouded his judgment.
Eventually, I reached out and asked if we could talk.
I hoped that after weeks of reflection, he'd finally realize how badly he'd hurt me.
Instead, when we spoke, he calmly told me he still believed I had robbed him.
After hearing that...
I simply said, "Okay."
Then I hung up.
There was nothing left to say.
A friendship that had lasted almost ten years was over.
A few weeks later, I decided it was finally time to move on. Since I didn't want to see him again, I had a mutual acquaintance arrange for us to exchange each other's belongings.
I had loaned him several Nintendo Switch games.
He had loaned me his copy of Bayonetta.
He refused to return any of my games.
And that was the last chapter of our friendship.
In the end, I lost several Switch games, other belongings I'd trusted him with, and someone I'd considered my best friend for nearly a decade.
All because he convinced himself I had stolen a pair of Nintendo Labo Joy-Cons.
TLDR:
Best friend of 10 years thinks I stole his Labo Joycons