When I was at high school, I made a friend, Brian.
We got along really well. We had very similar interests based upon science fiction and fantasy. His dad had the most awesome library of fantasy and science fiction books. Shelves and shelves. Endless bookcases.
It was heaven.
Even better, I was even invited to play in their D&D campaign. This was big, because it had been going for years. The whole family played. Mum, Dad (the Dungeon Master), Brian and his older sister.
It was the most incredibly detailed adventure.
The thing is, it was just basic D&D they were playing. Character levels were capped at level 3, monsters were pretty ordinary. And it was a dungeon adventure. But is was so exciting!
They (the players) had an incredibly detailed map they were drawing capturing all the detail. The rooms, the staircases, the trap doors, the secret passages. Incredible amounts of time had been put into this adventure over the years.
And I was welcomed into their adventuring party.
One day, coming home from an excursion or something, we all climbed on to a bus, and I sat next to Brian to talk about D&D, science fiction books, fantasy books, whatever.
Another friend of mine (strange how I still think of him as a friend), told me that if I didn't sit next to him, and never talk to Brian again, he wouldn't be my friend anymore.
And to my endless shame, I got up, and didn't sit with Brian.
And to the best of my recollection, I never spoke to Brian again.
How shit is that?
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