Thursday, June 14, 2012

NTRPGCon 2012 - Part III

More memorable names

After Norm had convinced me to buy Carcosa, he asked what I was doing for dinner. I told him the hotel bar was open and the kitchen would start serving food in an hour, so I suggested we get a beer. Norm bought the first round and began reading out of Carcosa, which made my already meager appetite nonexistent. I did end up ordering some food after a few beers, not really sure what it was. By this time I was drunk and it wasn't even 5:30PM. Around this time Erol Otus stepped up to the bar and ordered dinner, turned to me and said, "Didn't we play in a game together last year?"

If memory serves, I was quite drunk during that game which worked in my favor as alcohol-related memories are hard to retrieve unless inebriated. In other words, I was able to remember what he was talking about due to the booze. I think I said something stupid (just assume that's true in every case) and he laughed, probably at my condition, not the content of my words.

After finishing my beer, I headed back up to the room to drop off the games I had bought. Mike and Jason were there, perusing through the box of crap Jason had brought to sell at the con. Most of it was worthless (according to Mike), but he did buy a rather sizable portion of it. Jason offered an adult beverage, Mike refused, then I threatened to punch him if he did not take one before departing. I never got the sense that Mike was stupid, nor impolite, and he graciously accepted a mixed adult beverage, avoiding my rising belligerence fueled only by the love of whiskey.

As they were both going back downstairs, I decided to tag along, carrying a drink for someone else along with my own. There was a large, bald man who turned out to be Sandy Petersen in the main game room, boisterous and jovial. I didn't get a chance to talk to him, which is unfortunate as he was the author of many of my favorite games. My notes are completely illegible here, but I can only assume I was insanely drunk. There is a remark of interest: "@18.10 (I'm guessing 6:10PM) there won't be any VISUAL EXCITING." I say of interest because I haven't the faintest fucking clue what that means whatsoever.

I walked back into the main game room and saw Allan running his game. He asked if I wanted to play, and of course I said yes, even though I was wasted and have a habit of sucking at con games. Someone was leaving so I'd be taking over his character, a fighter of some sort. Easy enough to play even for an idiot like me. My notes for the game were made later and simply state, "Do not remember anything". I have a vague recollection of talking to Mike Stewart about random crap while the party was decimated by a gelatinous cube, and this year I didn't insult him to no end. I did offer to buy him a beer; he declined due to the unknown reaction of the beer with his elephant-grade prescription pain medication.

At some point I bought Allan a beer with the hopes that he'd let my character live; it worked. Somehow my fighter did not die and in fact made it out alive, a first for me in con games. Vague recollection of complaining about that, but I cannot be sure...

Steve Winter

If you don't already know who Steve Winter is, I'll be succinct and use his own words: "Yeah, I don't have my name on anything prominently, but my fingers were in everything." He DID co-write the Marvel RPG, which is braggable, and did a ton of stuff for TSR during the 80s as an editor. As anyone can tell you, an editor can make or break an author, and Mr. Winter by definition was/is a good editor. The products under his watch were pretty good. That said, he's an even better human being. One of the nicest, most outgoing people I met at the con, he was extremely positive, even talking to a drunken fool about the dumbest crap possible. At one point I offered to get him a beer, and he declined until the next day, so I made a mental note (and a note in my journal: Steve Winter: really cool, owe one beer). I did end up getting him that beer and he was thankful. He looks like somewhat Moby, the DJ guy, just a bit older, and that's alright.


What did you expect? A full day of hard drinking with hardly any food (or sleep) without shenanigans? Surely you jest! After talking to Mr. Winter for a while, the booze flowing like the Mississippi, which is to say slowly but in mass quantities, it was sure to happen: someone getting hurt. Unfortunately this time it was me. I will not say I was entirely without fault, threatening everyone in a playful way with fisticuffs. Personally I do not think I'm intimidating, but I can understand that sober individuals might not want to be fucked with by a drunken idiot who is physically stronger than he realizes. So it happened: I started goofing around and pushed Jason. He took none too kindly to this and ball-tapped me. The perfect shot. Holding a can of Miller High Life, I started to hit the deck, albeit very slowly. I tried to correct my descent to no avail, finally realizing I would be biting it momentarily. Thankfully, a large wooden bookshelf hit my temple, breaking my fall slightly; it careened over and dumped its contents on the floor with a loud thud. Sitting next to a pool of beer, holding a crushed can, I lamented my plight and possible brain injury as thousands of dollars of out-of-print materials were in danger of outright destruction. Doug picked up the books and the shelf, corrected the mess and asked me if I was okay. My only response was, "Ow my brain hurts". Or something to that effect. It was around 12:30 and I decided to tuck my tail between my legs, polish off the rest of my beer, and make my way to the room. Somehow I climbed into bed, both inebriated and concussed, into a slumber for the ages. I did wake up at some point to regurgitate the contents of my stomach (mostly beer) before passing out again until the morn. It is hazy, but I distinctly remember offering Doug $35 for a book that was damaged, as if that would cover the price. "That's why I put these things in plastic," he said, leaving out the implicit, "So fucking drunk morons don't destroy them." Again, what did you expect?

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