As a kid, I was always a geek. I had a love of math and science and was an avid reader. However, despite my excessive reading, I’m only an average speller at best, while my mother and sister are great at it and love all kinds of word games. Thus, when they both insist on playing Scrabble, I join them begrudgingly, knowing I am doomed to be a distant third place in the end.

One turn, my sister puts down “LAZAR” using some of the special locations to get a high score.

Me: “What is a ‘lazar’?”

Sister: “It’s ‘laser.’ You know, like a gun that shoots people with light.”

Me: “Oh, come on. That’s not how you spell ‘laser’!”

Sister: “Sure it is. How would you spell it?”

Me: “It’s spelled L-A-S-E-R.”

Sister: “No. I think it’s a Z?”

Me: “No, I’m quite confident it’s an S.”

Sister: “How do you know? We should check the dictionary.”

Mother suggests, with just a hint of amusement in her voice:

Mother: “Go ahead. Tell her what it means.”

Me: “’Laser’ is an abbreviation for ‘Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation.’ You can’t Zimulate radiation!”

My sister was indignant but conceded that she must have spelled it wrong without demanding we check the dictionary after that. I had just told my mother the week prior that the book on physics I was reading explained the origin of the term ‘laser,’ so she knew what was coming and was just waiting for my sister to dig herself deeper before speaking up.

I still lost the game, as I had anticipated. However, I felt vindicated that I managed to show my older sister up, even in the game she excelled at, by using the things I was good at: physics and obsessive reading.

I’m playing Dungeons and Dragons with a group of friends. We’ve spent most of the session clearing out a large dungeon, with bigger and badder enemies on each level, leading to the final level with the boss battle.

Our Dungeon Master likes to set the scene with background music, often using soundtracks from popular video games, as well as more generic atmosphere playlists.  

Dungeon Master: “You enter a large cavern and see a large silver dragon waiting for you…”

He dramatically presses a button on his computer to trigger the boss music. Instead, an ad plays before the video, with an instantly recognizable jingle for a certain insurance company.

Bard: *Not missing a beat* “Like a bad neighbor, [Boss Monster] is there!”

I’m unlucky in games and lotteries. I once participated in a board game where everyone else finished and I never went beyond square fifteen, if I reached that one at all. Somehow, I managed to land on the “return to start” field, and when I skipped it, I was thrown back so I could try again. My nieces and nephews loved playing games with me when they were little. Whereas my brother had to cheat massively to lose a game or at least barely win it, they were almost assured the win when playing with me.

One day, I’m at a fair and a man with a lottery type of game approaches me with the “always win” slogan. The cheapest option has you drawing three tickets.

Me: “So every number wins?”

Seller: “No, ma’am, I couldn’t do that, but every draw has at least one winning ticket. Only numbers ending in [three different numbers, each with increasingly more valuable prizes] are winning.”

Me: “Not interested, thank you.”

Seller: “But ma’am, look at the fine prizes you can win.”

Me: “Not interested. Besides, I would be throwing money away since I’m not going to win anyway.”

Seller: “That won’t be happening; people never leave without at least one prize.”

Me: “People might. I won’t.”

He keeps insisting until I cave.

Me: “Okay, I will prove it to you. Give me three tickets and I’ll show you that I ain’t winning a thing.”

The man happily sold me the tickets. I drew three envelopes. First one: nothing. Second one: nothing. His jaw dropped as I showed him the final number: nope. To his credit, he awarded me the pick of one of the least valuable prizes. It wasn’t needed, but it was appreciated, so I guess I won after all.

I work at a virtual reality arcade where part of my job is teaching people how to play the games. There is a young teenager playing “Beat Saber,” a popular rhythm game, but he doesn’t seem to get it and keeps failing each level after a couple of seconds.

Me: “Hey, buddy, you’re going to want to make sure you hit the blocks in the direction the arrow is pointing.”

Teenager: *Scoffs* “Okay.”

He fails again.

Me: “You see how those arrows are pointing up? That means you have to slice up.”

Teenager: “Okay!”

He fails again.

Me: “You need to hit them on the beat, too. You can always go back and change the settings or do the tutorial—”

Teenager: *Screaming* “OKAY, WHATEVER!”

I decided to just leave him to it. I watched him fail dozens more times. I hope he thought it was worth $10 to look at a “Level Failed” screen for ten minutes.

This takes place in a relatively popular Minecraft server for my area, where everyone is challenged to build the biggest, best build they can. I personally love modern-looking mansions, so I decide to build a huge one, and since I’m gay, I put a rainbow beacon set on the roof. It is huge, and it takes me weeks of logging on during every spare moment I have to finish just the outside. I start on the inside, but I have to log off for the night.

When I log back in the next morning, I can’t see the rainbow beacons. There are hundreds of other modern mansions that are just as big and spectacular as mine, so it will take me at least thirty minutes to look, but I have to be somewhere in thirty-five minutes. I decide to take the fast route and just chat [Moderator #1] to see what happened. I am also acquainted with [Moderator #1] in real life, so I have an idea of what happened.

Me: “Hey, [Moderator #1], do you know what happened to my rainbow beacons that were on top of my mansion? I can’t find it otherwise, because it looks so similar to everyone else’s.”

Moderator #1: “Oh, those? Yeah, the person that lives in your mansion now took them off.”

Me: “In my mansion?! I didn’t give anyone permission to be in my mansion!”

Moderator #1: “Oh, well, you gave me permission to sell one of your other mansions, so I figured you wouldn’t care if I sold this one.”

Me: “I only gave you permission to sell that mansion because it was small and crappy! This one I’m not even done with yet, and it’s the hardest build I’ve ever made!”

Moderator #1: “Whatever. It’s not my problem that you didn’t clarify it was just the one mansion. If you want to complain further, here’s the gamertag of the person that lives in your mansion now. [Moderator #2].”

[Moderator #1] then logs off, leaving me to talk to [Moderator #2] alone.

Me: *Fuming* “Hey, [Moderator #2], I need to talk to you.”

[Moderator #2] reads all the chats.

Moderator #2: “Yeah, [My Gamertag], I kind of figured that out. I’m so sorry and I had no idea he didn’t have permission from you to sell the mansion. I also thought I got scammed since the inside wasn’t even finished.”

I’m relieved that [Moderator #2] isn’t an a**hole like [Moderator #1].

Me: “Yeah, the reason it wasn’t finished is that I didn’t know he was going to sell it. I’ll get him to give you a refund.”

Moderator #2: “He’d better give me a refund! I spent four emeralds and three wither skeleton skulls on this house!”

Me: “Oh, also can you put the rainbow beacons back up? I have to leave now, but that’s the only way I’ll be able to see it when I log back in.”

Moderator #2: “No problem. Also, after he gives me my refund, [Moderator #1] is getting banned!”

[Moderator #1] did end up paying back [Moderator #2] in full, he gave me an apology, and then he got banned for selling property without permission from the owner. I finally finished my house, and I also never saw [Moderator #1] in person or on Minecraft again.