There was a time, not so long ago, when Friday nights in small-town Ontario meant one thing: a trip to the local video store with a pocketful of change and a head full of dreams. In the early 90s, in Corunna, Ontario, my friend and I lived for these moments. With a Nintendo hooked up to a chunky old TV, we’d pool our money, hop on our bikes, and head down to Lyndoch Street, where for the princely sum of $3.24 a day, we could rent a new adventure.
The Ritual of the Rental
The process was always the same. The store itself was a sensory overload: the smell of plastic and popcorn, the whir of ceiling fans, the hum of fluorescent lights. Rows of VHS tapes lined the walls, but we made a beeline for the game section. Each NES cartridge sat in a hard plastic case that clicked satisfyingly shut, often with a folded, dog-eared guidebook. For the incredibly popular games, it was just a photocopy tucked in with the cartridge. That guide was gold: a map, a list of moves, a hint at secrets we’d never find on our own. You knew you had a worthy game when there was a map included. Even if it had potato chip dust on it.
Luck of the Draw
Back then, you never really knew what you were getting. There was no internet to check reviews, no YouTube to preview gameplay. Sometimes you’d hear about a game from a friend at school or catch a glimpse of a magazine ad, but mostly, you judged by the cover art and the blurb on the back. The best games were always gone by Friday night, so it was a roll of the dice. Would you get a classic, or would you spend your weekend with a dud? Either way, you committed. Once you left the store, that was your game for the next 24 hours. If it was bad, well, you’d end up outside playing street hockey or riding your bike until the sun went down.
The Race Against Time
Completing a rented game was a mission. You had to save your progress on the actual cartridge, hoping the last kid hadn’t wiped the file or filled up all the save slots. Some games didn’t even have a save feature, so you’d leave the console on overnight, praying there wouldn’t be a power outage. My friend and I would play for hours, fingers cramped, eyes burning, determined to see the credits roll before the game had to go back. We would even take turns sleeping, while the other tried to knock off a few more levels.
Games That Defined an Era
Some titles became legends in our little circle. The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past was a favourite-an epic quest that felt impossible to finish in a weekend, but we tried anyway. Super Mario World was a staple, its bright colours and secret exits keeping us glued to the screen. Blaster Master and Castlevania were notorious for their difficulty, but beating a level felt like conquering Everest. Contra and Mega Man 2 tested our reflexes and our patience, while Final Fantasy and Metroid introduced us to sprawling worlds and unforgettable music. Just for the record, Final Fantasy and the like were games you hoped to get for your birthday, because owning it was the only way you would ever finish them. By the way, this was back when you could swap games, so it was exciting when anyone in your friend group added a game to their collection because it meant at some point you could borrow or trade.
Here’s a list of some of the best games we rented again and again:
(apologies if I get the console wrong, it was a long time ago)
- The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past
- Super Mario World
- Blaster Master
- Castlevania
- Contra
- Mega Man 2
- Final Fantasy
- Metroid
- Super Mario Bros. 3
- Tecmo Super Bowl
- GoldenEye 007
Community and Competition
Renting wasn’t just about the games; it was about the stories we shared. Monday mornings at school, we’d swap tales of near-misses and high scores, trade tips, and sometimes, if you were lucky, borrow a game from a friend who’d convinced his parents to buy it outright (a rare and precious thing, since new games cost a small fortune back then). Sometimes, we’d even beg our parents to re-rent the same game, desperate to finish what we started before someone else erased our save.
I remember getting stuck in a game and literally thinking about it all day until I could get home and try again. Oddly enough, I don’t see that in our kids. The type of games they play doesn’t really have an end or even a sticking point. They prefer the world of Roblox, or other platforms, where you just play what I think are easy games against complete strangers online.
A Lost Ritual
Looking back, the whole experience feels like a rite of passage. The anticipation, the disappointment, the thrill of discovery. It was all part of growing up in a time before instant downloads and endless digital libraries. Today, with subscription services and retro collections, it’s easy to play any classic with a few clicks. But nothing matches the excitement of walking into that store, scanning the shelves, and taking a chance on a game you’d never heard of, hoping it would be the weekend you found a new favourite.
Those $3.24 rentals were more than just a way to pass the time, they were tickets to adventure, friendship, and the pure joy of discovery. And for a kid in Corunna, Ontario, that was worth every penny.
What video games do you remember loving as a kid? Would love to hear it.
