Henry Jenkins, head of the comparative media studies program at MIT, tackled the gender gap in "From Barbie to Mortal Kombat: Gender and Computer Games," a book he co-edited in 1998. "They call it a GameBoy, right?" he says. "That's a clear sign, a huge assumption, that the players will be boys."

Jenkins and others note the exception of a few games aimed at pre-adolescent girls (think of the Mary-Kate & Ashley and Barbie games) that appeared on the market starting in 1994. The "girl game genre," as industry insiders call it, has barely made a dent in the market, and success has meant overcoming considerable skepticism. In 1998, for example, Megan Gaiser's company, Her Interactive, created Secrets Can Kill, a computer game based on a popular Nancy Drew book. "No publisher -- now I'm not going to name any names -- but no publisher would put that game on the shelf," says Gaiser. "They said, 'Females are computer-phobic, they don't play computer games, there's no market for them.' "

Gaiser had the last laugh. Unwelcomed at the front door, she found a back way, promoting the games on her Web site, Herinteractive.com, and selling them on Amazon.com. The games were a hit. Since 2000, the Nancy Drew franchise has sold 1.8 million units. Gaiser said a 12th game, the Secret of Shadow Ranch, is due next month.

Of course, there is some truth to the stereotype. The industry has a long way to go to attract Harmony Davis and Kayley Harrington, both 21, both averse to playing what they call "silly" and "pointless" games. (Dating a guy addicted to games is a no-no, they say.)

"I just don't get it. I never did, I probably never will," says Davis, a student at Columbia University who was visiting Harrington, a District resident. "To me, video games are a waste of energy, a waste of time. Read a book. Read the paper. Do something constructive."

Harrington nods. She has a 16-year-old brother who is "a huge, huge" gamer, glued to the TV for hours. "I don't identify and relate to it at all. I don't think many girls do."

"It's a personality thing, isn't it?" asks 33-year-old Minerva Torres, catching the Metro to Fairfax. "Guys are happy to play by themselves." She laughs. "But girls, girls want to interact. They want people involved. Most of the games aren't set up like that."

Most games, as they exist now, "are really well-designed to take the traditional aspects of boy-playing," says Jenkins. "As games have emerged in the past decade or so, a lot of what has been created was taken from what boys like to play in the back yard. But where does that leave the girls?"

The Sims seems to have found it. The PC game -- the best-selling PC franchise of all time, selling some 12 million copies of various titles -- is now translated into 17 languages. It's like reality TV gone virtual, with gamers playing God, dictating what a neighborhood of simulated people (Sims) can do. There's the Sims Livin' Large, the Sims House Party, the Sims Hot Date and so on. Trudy Muller, a spokeswoman for Electronic Arts (EA) -- which publishes the Sims and reported a 2003 revenue of $2.96 billion -- says at least 50 percent of the games' players are women.

"With the Sims, you're really building relationships and, with the focus groups that we've done, that's something that interests women and teenage girls," she says.