Magic: The Murdering

, , , , , , | Friendly | November 3, 2017

(My husband and I play [Trading Card Game]. Like most players, we have our valuable cards in binders that we carry with us to our local shop when we go to play, in case someone wants to do trades. A friend asks my husband to trade, so he hands the friend one of our three binders and sits looking at our friend’s binder. Our other two binders are on the table in front of me, and I’m sitting next to my husband, but his back is to me. A random guy that I’ve never seen before sits down at the table across from my husband. Note: some [Trading Card Game] cards are highly sought after and quite valuable, so a person’s binder could be worth anywhere from several hundred to several thousand dollars.)

Guy: “Oh, y’all are trading? Anything good?” *points to our binders* “Whose are these?”

(My husband and [Friend] ignore him as they discuss the cards they’re looking to trade and the value of those cards.)

Me: *pointing to my husband* “They’re our cards. He’s busy with [Friend] right now, so you might as well be talking to a brick wall.”

Guy: “Oh, okay.” *tries to grab the binders, but I snatch them out of his reach* “I just want to look.”

Me: *glaring at him* “Well, [Husband] is busy, and I’m not looking for anything right now. And I don’t know you, so don’t think you can just grab our cards like that!”

Guy: *to my husband* “Hey, man, she won’t let me look at your cards.”

(He snaps his fingers at my husband and I grit my teeth at his impertinence.)

Husband: *obviously annoyed but not looking up* “That’s my wife, and she plays, too, so those cards are half hers. Just wait a minute and we can try to deal, if you have stuff I want.”

Guy: *tries snatching the binders from me again* “I just want to see what he has!”

Me: *slamming the binders on the table as I jump out of my chair, fed up with his arrogance* “Listen here, you a**! I said you couldn’t just grab our cards like that, because I don’t know you! Try touching them again, and I will rip your f****** head off your shoulders, you got it?!”

Guy: *jumps up then glares at me* “You’re crazy!”

Friend: *finally looking up* “Hey, hey! Whooooa!” *to the guy* “[Guy], she told you not to touch their stuff and you didn’t listen and kept trying to grab their money cards, so of course she’s going to get crazy!” *to me* “[My Name], no committing murder. I don’t feel like helping [Shop Owner] and [Employee] mop up his blood, okay?”

Guy: “Whatever, man! I’m out. This chick is crazy.”

(My husband watches the guy leave, then shrugs and kisses my cheek.)

Husband: “And that, baby, is why I love you.”

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