Herein Lies The Douche
Apparently, not only do I exhibit douchey behavior on the Internet, but also in Real Life. There were many incidents of my sociopathic behavior on display during the Con; all the ones that stand out in my mind follow. I'm sure there were plenty of other instances I seemed like a fucking retard, but I'm probably too stupid to remember them.
Saturday morning, during Jeff Dee's game, I sit next to a guy wearing dark sunglasses. Oakleys or something similar. Now, it is 9AM, I am hung over myself so I too had sunglasses with me ($3 Walmart variety, left at the gaming table), but I took them off as I figured it was appropriate. Who the hell wears sunglasses inside in the morning? I immediately think to myself, geeze, this kid is a dick. It was after 10-20 minutes of his wife reading die rolls aloud and his fumbling with a cup of coffee a few times that I realized: hey, this guy is blind. Did I ever feel like an ass. We had a break for lunch, and after I returned I introduced myself to the fellows at the table, not having the opportunity when we started. The blind kid says his name is Mike Stewart, which I recognize as being one of the Castles & Crusades contributors and at one time a fairly prolific poster on Dragonsfoot. I relate my previous transgressions as a way of pointing out my own stupidity, but it comes off as me being even more of an asshole, if that was possible. Mike has a decent sense of humor so it's possible he didn't take anything personally. A little later in the game, he asks me about the copy of V&V I purchased and I say it's worth buying and offer to let him look at it. He sort of shrugs and I apologize for being unbearably stupid. Whiskey-fueled dumbassery would be my excuse, as I had used ye olde hair of the dog to placate my hangover. Mike still seemed nice enough, though, so kudos to him.
During Allan Grohe's game (which I'll detail later), there was a guy playing who introduced himself as Bob. Bob seemed nice enough and the session went pretty well until he had to depart. The next morning, I saw Bob at a gaming table with two individuals and apparently he was to run a game. I said hello and chatted a bit with him, never realizing HE WAS PLAYING AT THAT EXACT MOMENT IN TIME. It was probably the case that Bob was too polite to tell me to shut the hell up and chalked up my lack of social skills to mental illness and/or booze. He was right on both accounts. Turns out Bob was none other than Bob Reed aka Cyclopeatron. Little did I know…great blog, nice guy, had to put up with me. Sorry.
At some point during the gaming day, I wanted a drink and had seen the serving wench walking around, asking if anyone needed something. I got up, spotted her in a game and asked her to get my a drink. I BLAME THE WHISKEY, OKAY? She was affable and led me to the cooler, which was literally 10 feet from my chair. At this point I felt even dumber than usual and tipped her $5 in hopes she wouldn't post nasty remarks about me on her Facebook.
And I was sorta drunk, flirting with the waitress at the restaurant before I smashed my glass of gin & tonic sending shards of glass all over our table. Another douche move. I took this opportunity to admonish her academic choices and bribed her $20 to sing for me. Thankfully I had places to be before security threw me out.
THIS IS ALL TRUE