Possibly the best story I've heard about the perils of pokemon. On NPR, talking about playing the game and realizing that maybe, just maybe, the real world is a thing: (He's looking at his phone, chasing pokemon.) 7:06 a.m.: ... I notice the activity in the park is particularly heavy — animated leaves dance on the map, which I take to indicate the rustling of wild Pokemon, waiting to be caught. By me. 7:07 a.m.: I enter the park and walk through it slowly, methodologically. Nothing. I stand at its center, hold my phone out in front of me, and scan the area again and again, looking for bright, animated action. Nothing. Just the dumb park, and a dumb fountain, and some women doing yoga. Right in front of me. Like, 8 feet. Directly in front of me. As I stand there, holding my phone. With the camera on. Pointed directly at their Downward Dogs. 7:08 a.m.: Through the camera, I watch, in J-horror slow motion, as the yoga instructor turns to face me. And frowns. 7:08:25 a.m.: It occur...
