Feb. 3rd, 2005

jmfargo: (Default)
Saturday I will go out with a relatively large group of grown men and women to play make believe. Our swords and shields will clash together with a solid *whomp* of air that we will imagine to be the sound that steel makes against large wooden shields.

I will enjoy this, as long as the weather is nice. I will probably be running around like an idiot, trying to grab the edges of shields with my bare hand to pull it to the side, making way for my companion's swords.

This is easily the hardest workout I do in a week, considering it goes on for a few hours, with some small rests inbetween battles. I leave the game sweaty, smelly, and ready to crash for the night.

This week, they want us to go to a restaurant afterwards to discuss tactics in battle for our little group. At first I thought this would be a great time to hang out, chat, talk about the game a little, and just have a fun time. Now, as I think about it, I realize that what they're asking is that we go out in public, dressed funny, smelling funny, and with bad hair.

I can't do that. I don't want to perpetuate the stereotype of gamers any further than it really needs to be. Now I just have to convince the rest of them to go home first, take a shower, get dressed, and ~then~ go out in public.

Good luck.

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