It wasn’t supposed to be a date.
That said, when a certain kind of man (the kind that owns ten or eighty d20) sits across a small table from a certain kind of woman (the kind that knows what to do with ten or eighty d20), for ten hours, with nary a break, three pots of Turkish coffee, two six-packs of Coke, three pounds of beef jerky with cumin and a plate of hand-rolled dolmati with rice, yogurt and Greek olives, *things* might just happen.
Like long (in this case, one-sided) wistful gazes. Like leading questions. Like proposals of cohabitation.
But what if, like the song, you’re a grrl who just wants to have fun—and probably not the kind of fun that the song implies but rather the kind of fun that involves cards, dice and strategic thinking? What if your idea of fun is playing fourteen games of Mardi Gras 3000? What if, despite your penchant for raves and motorcycles, you don’t drug, drink or have casual sex?
I’ll tell you what, my friend: You get called a “geek” by a geek ;)
We weren’t alone on this “date,” of course. And this delightful, self-described “scrawny gamer guy” was a long-time family friend (though one I had never, personally, met before). We talked constantly while we played MG3K and he liked to pepper his sentences with phrases like, “seriously, anything I say that you like, just use it, take it, it’s yours—no credit to me, okay?” This kind of annoyed me and I told him so. He laughed and popped another Coke.
My mother, the forever elegant (and possibly immortal) Pahmela Angel, she of almost-undefeated Celestial fame, kept flitting in and out of the kitchen (where we were) on the cordless with Gamer Guy’s mom, no doubt. I never heard what she said but it was probably like this, “No, no, Doris, they don’t seem to be getting along in *that* way. Yes, I am starting to wonder if she even likes boys. I mean, she seems to like them well enough when she plays online games, you know? Yes, you’re right, maybe I should take her motorcycle away.”
That day and evening, as we played game after game, we talked about taking over the world with MG3K. Creating versions of MG3K in every single genre known to God and man and woman. Board game? Got it. Diceless, MTG-like play? Yep. Tabletop game with figures? All over it. Online Flash play? RPG OGL rules? Virtual world? Daily fiction feeds? Clothing lines? Jewelry? Virtual pets? Yes. You bet. Absolutely.
Nothing was fully fleshed out or even beyond white, skinny bones but it sure got me thinking BIG. And he only put his hand on my thigh once. For .0045 of a second. I have never heard a grown man say “Uncle!” so quickly.
The evening would actually have ended pretty well if it weren’t for my easel. Remember how I paint? Those nice commissions and stuff? Well, even when my parents decided to join me in Washington, I reminded them that the house was still *mine*--that means I can leave my stuff where I want it. And I want my easels kind of... well... everywhere.
Gamer Guy tripped. It was a twisted mess of skinny pine and, well, my skinny guest. We wound up at Harrison Hospital (in Silverdale because I like him more than to take him to HH Bremerton). From the screaming, Mom and I assumed it was broken but it was just a sprain (“Bad sprain!” I’m reminded, when I run this blog by Mr. Guy). What a night.
Oh. By the way. The final score was 10 to 4. My favor. Is that what they call “insult on top of injury”? ;)
E.J.
