My brother has always been hard to shop for, so when his girlfriend emailed me a couple of weeks ago with an idea, I couldn’t have been happier to go along with it. She was collecting contributions towards one big gift from family and friends. So, for his birthday, my brother is getting a gift certificate for trapeze lessons. It’s just so him.
After hearing some of Rachel’s stories from the public defender’s office, even fewer things surprise me in previous years. The only thing in this article that caught my attention was that the individual in question was charged with “vicarious sexual gratification.”
I want to know how you prove that charge in court.
Star Wars III: A steaming pile of sith.
Batman Begins: “A hate crime against the future.”
I got slammed with a very nasty migraine yesterday; normally, I can medicate myself to the point where my high pain tolerance lets me function. Yesterday’s migraine, however, was atypical, in that I also had vertigo and nausea with it. Vertigo isn’t so bad if all I’m doing is sitting behind a desk. Nausea is a completely different story; my stomach is very much my weak point. I went into work anyway, hoping to at least get in half day’s worth of work. I only lasted until about 10:00 AM, at which point I thought I needed to get home while I could still drive. It’s better today, though not gone. I’m medicated to the gills and not completely aware of my surroundings, but the nausea is gone.
Ed spent a lot of time at the Waffle House in Bloomington, Indiana, when he was an undergrad. He’s got a theory that the place is a portal to bizarro world, and he’s got personal experience to back it up. To wit:
Incident 1
Ed’s sitting at Waffle House, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. He’s minding his own business, thinking about classes he’s not attending, when he hears a voice say “hey!” Ed looks around, and sees a guy at another booth nearby. Ed replies, “Yeah, man?” and the guy says “I’m a werewolf.” Now, Ed’s working on his psychology degree at this point, and it’s an opportunity he can’t pass up. He asks the guy something like “Are you comfortable being a werewolf? Do you feel that you can self-actualize as a werewolf?” The guy then offered to sell Ed some opium suppositories.
Incident 2
Ed’s sitting at Waffle House, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Different booth this time. He’s minding his own business when a cop walks in. The officer puts his hand on his gun, walks up to Ed, and asks for his name. Ed answers politely and inquires as to why the officer asked. “We’re looking for someone who looks like you,” the officer says. “A lot like you.” Then, the officer leaves.
Incident 3
Ed’s sitting at Waffle House, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Yet another booth. He’s minding his own business, thinking about girls he’s not sleeping with. A cute waitress approaches him and says “Your dad’s here.” Ed’s a little confused at this point, because his dad hadn’t called to say he was planning to visit, and how would the waitress know what he looked like anyway? Trying to be helpful, the waitress points to a man at another table. “He’s right there.” Ed looks over and sees himself at fifty.
Alisa says she had a similarly weird experience during her tenure at IU. She was sitting in the restaurant that’s now Denny’s when a man started a conversation by telling her that he’d been been bitten by a vampire at Griffey Lake. Of course, by the time I got to IU, Griffey Lake was werewolf territory. Apparently the opium suppository business was quite lucrative.
Coworker: How badly will you hurt me if I tell you that I want changes to the [document we've been trying to get signed for a month]?
Ed’s car blew its head gasket yesterday.
Actually, I think I did, or at least close enough.
Gaelic Storm was in town last night, so Ed and I and a handful of friends trooped over and had ourselves a wonderful time. I’ve been trying to think of words good enough to describe the show, and I’m failing entirely. (Of course, that might have to do with the fact that I’m running on less than five hours of sleep—but, oh, it was worth it!) In addition to playing great music, they’re a very personable stage act, and I can’t recommend them highly enough.
They’ll be back again in September for the Indy Irish Festival, and trust me, you won’t want to miss them.
So, Ed stops in at the gas station on 71ST and SR69, and there’s this really nice guy behind the counter. The dialog begins when he sees Ed pick up the coolant.
Him: Good morning! Are you thinking about buying premixed coolant?
Ed: Um, yeah.
Him: Would you like any breakfast to go with your premixed coolant?
Ed: No thanks, not today.
Him: You will be sure to tell your friends about us?
Ed thinks: Sure will. hey everyone, the gas station at 71st and 69 sells the best f*cking coolant on the planet… and I’ll just bet that their breakfasts are great!!
Him: Would you like a brochure?
Ed thinks: OK, now this is getting surreal. Theres no garage or mechanic at this station… what the hell do you put in a brochure? Who advertises a GAS STATION? Sure, I admire initiative in anyone, but I couldn’t help but wonder…
Ed: no thanks, bye
Him: enjoy your pre-mixed coolant!
I’ve said before that I tend to think of roleplaying as improv theater to a certain extent, and pacing is an important part of any production. To a certain extent, I think that if the timing is managed well, it’s invisible to the players. So, what are your thoughts on pacing?
The thinking that prompted this week’s question was the realization that I’ve made something of a habit lately of running games in which the game is the journey rather than the destination. This is a sharp contrast to several games I’ve played in which travel was a series of random encounters between Plot Arc A and Plot Arc B; nothing more than an opportunity to pick up some XP on your way to somewhere else. After a point, I think that the attempt to condense travel time starts to interfere with the game’s pacing.
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