I should begin by saying that for the purpose of this and future posts, my husband shall remain nameless, because what I write someday might embarrass him–perhaps today. And while readers who know me personally would likely know my husband as well, we wouldn’t want my exorbitant mass <insert sarcastic tone here> of faceless web followers to actually know him by his real name.
Anyway, my husband’s an avid game player. I don’t mean the messing with your mind kind or that he really gets into Monopoly. I should be so lucky. I’m talking the online, virtual role-playing game player.
I don’t pretend to understand the allure of this particular game he plays, or any of them for that matter. But he seems to enjoy it as much as I enjoy escaping into my writing. So, who am I to criticize? Yeah, right.
Oh, he’ll try to argue that one can win gold or amass incredible treasures. Or that there’s a certain satisfaction in slaying a hybrid goat creature or something or other, but I still don’t get it. It seems almost pointless. (Not at all like writing for the pure joy of it without actually getting paid or anything.)
When I woke up from a nap this afternoon, I wasn’t at all surprised to find my virtual knight in shining armor busy at his computer, jousting with the best of them.
“Do you want to go into town with me?” While I realized the prospect of a shopping trip wouldn’t likely deter him, I figured, what the hell? and asked anyway.
He tore his eyes away from the battlefield laid out before him. “Honey,” he pointed at the screen, “I just told them I’d go someplace with them.”
His eyes bore the expression of an eight year old whose mom’s just told him he couldn’t go outside to play with his friends.
“Seriously?” I’d been turned down in lieu of a handful of wanna-be sword bucklers on a quest to save the kingdom?
In his defense, such as there is, I should’ve known better than to even ask. There’s only one thing, I suspect, that could pry him away from a heated battle and that’s the promise of semi-nudity. I put my theory to the test one day when I said to him, “So, what would happen if I asked you to…you know?” I tried to sound more convincing by dropping the tone of my voice.
He glanced up quickly, eyebrows raised and then turned back to the game. “I’d just tell them I’d been propositioned and I’d be right back.” His answer came rather quickly and I suspected other wives and/or girlfriends had been left to resort to the same M.O. in the past, leaving the remaining gallant heroes to fend off evil while the deserter went off in search of other, real-life sources of entertainment.
“So, what happens to your virtual game guy if you’re off…doing other things?”
“Well,” he pounded out something on the keyboard, “they’d just take over for me or I’d move to a safe zone.”
“So they’d guard you while you’re off having sex?!”
“Yeah. We do that for each other all the time.”
I guess it’s nice to know your friends have your back.
“So,” he said. “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Nah. I think I’ll go get some writing done.”