(I’m running three six-hour adventures as part of my volunteer duties at the 2006 A-Kon. The third adventure, when all the characters are advanced to high powered versions, has a player who tells me that it is her first time ever playing a tabletop RPG. Two of the players have played both the earlier adventures choosing the drider-girl and FBI agent each time, and another two are long-time friends of mine. The remaining two players are friends of the newbie.)

New Player: “Is it going to be hard?”

Me: “Not at all. The hardest part about this game is making the character. But I use pre-generated characters at conventions to avoid that.”

Agent Player: “And he’s been a really good GM. I love this story line.”

Drider Player: “We’ve been in both of his other events. And this is a really great system.”

New Player: “I’m just worried about keeping track of all the information.”

Me: “Well, I put info on all your dragon-girl’s powers and abilities on the sheet. I’ve done all the math already. Also, I have a copy of your character so I can make sure you’re good. This is basically the same as playing cops and robbers as a little kid. The rules and dice only exist for two reasons, really.”

New Player: “Oh? What are those?”

Me: “A: if there is a dispute they prevent things from falling to endless ‘No I’m not,’ ‘Yes you are’ arguments. And B: when you roll a high number it gives you an excuse to go ‘Ooooooh’ and say how cool and awesome you are.”

(The experienced players agree with me. Later, the new player decides to have her dragon girl do a strafing run on a bunch of banshee-like space invaders and she rolls a bunch of successive critical successes.)

Me: “Your fire breath cuts a line straight through the oncoming hordes and incinerates everyone it touches.”

New Player: “Ooooooooooh”

Table: “One of us! One of us! One of us!”

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(I work for a company that sets up trade shows. My team is spending a few days on location doing prep work.)

Supervisor: “Hey, when we finish for the evening I know a great bar we can go for dinner.”

Me: “Uhm, okay, but how are we going to get [Coworker] in?”

Supervisor: “What do you mean?”

Me: “He’s not 21 yet.”

Supervisor: “Yes, he is!”

Me: “No. I don’t think he’s even 20. He just graduated high school. Didn’t he?”

Supervisor: “He’s at least 21!” *calls over Coworker* “How old are you, man?”

Coworker: “I’m 19.”

Supervisor: “Seriously? I thought you were, like, 25.”

Coworker: “I still live with my mom! Didn’t you think that was a little weird?”

Supervisor: “Well, yeah, but I just figured you were a slacker.”

(I’m chatting/flirting with a girl that I had met at a very busy comic convention.)

Girl: “So, I was jokingly telling my sister how we met today.”

Me: “Oh? What did you say?”

Girl: “That a complete stranger took me by my hand and dragged me to safety away from a swarming crowd of people.”

Me: “You make it sound like I kidnapped you!”

Girl: “Nah. More like you saved a damsel in distress!”

Me: “Say, I’m going to spend week in England with [Female Friend] around April. First half to visit castles in Scotland, second half at London, final day to attend the [Band] concert. Would you like to come?”

Girl: “Castle? Band? H***, YEAH!”

Me: “Of the times I’ve invited girls I barely know to travel abroad, this is the first time I get a yes instead of ‘but what if you are a maniac who will rape me then murder me and drop me in the woods?'”

Girl: “Maybe it’ll be the other way around! MWAHAHAHAHA!”

Me: “I don’t know if I should be worried or flattered.”

Girl: “Is [Female Friend] your girlfriend?”

Me: “Not really… We’re in a kind of open relationship. She’s more like a friend to me. She’s bi and so am I. We’re kin spirits, so to say. Usually she’s the judge of whether a girl is right for me or not.”

Girl: “So to marry you I’d have to bone your female BFF?”

Me: “Pretty much. Welcome to the harem!”

Girl: “Is she hot, at least?”

(I link her some pictures.)

Girl: “Yay, threesome!”

Me: “I still don’t know if I should be worried or flattered…”

(I overhear some convention attendees when walking by a line.)

Attendee #1: “Hey, look, a line for something.”

Attendee #2: “What’s it for?”

Attendee #1: “I dunno. Let’s get in line!”

( I am walking around the dealer room at an anime convention with one of my friends. I have a small plushie of one of my favorite anime characters, Gin Ichimaru, hanging from my name badge. A random stranger who happens to be dressed up as Gin runs up to me.)

Random Stranger: “Oh my god, it’s me!”

(The random stranger tackle hugs me.)

Me: “Eep!”

Random Stranger: “You’ve got a little plushie of me! You’re awesome!”

(It turns out my friend was leading me to the booth the Gin cosplayer was working at. She had a crush on the guy working with him, and eventually ended up dating him. Their relationship went up in smoke a few years ago, but Gin and I have been dating for four years. He’s still listed as Gin in my phone!)

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