Although I am admittedly somewhat of a geek, I was never the type to engage much in fantasy role-play of any kind. I was never into DnD, never dressed up as a favorite comic book character for Comic-Con, never wanted to be a blacksmith (or wench for that matter) at a Renfair. And with the developments of virtual reality and the internet, I have likewise never felt the siren call of Second Life and its ilk. Not to put too fine a point on it, but even in the bedroom I couldn’t be less interested in pretending to be a fireman or cable repair guy in some elaborate getup or setup. I kind of like interacting in the real world as myself, and feel a little silly when playing a role.
So it is with some trepidation that I agreed to go to some type of murder mystery birthday party this evening. I am not exactly sure how I got roped into it, to tell the truth. I was invited by a good friend of a good friend of mine to a birthday party and I RSVPd before knowing that there was anything special (or odd) about it. As far as I knew, I was just agreeing to come to a party on a certain date (tonight). Ok, maybe I didn’t read the original invite too closely, but let’s just say it didn’t become all that clear to me until I received an email informing me of my “character” and suggestions for what I should wear. This was followed in the mail a few days later with a secret letter (addressed to my character) that is not to be opened until this evening. Since this is some type of murder mystery, is it too much to hope that mine will be the character who has been murdered?
It is in trying times that you find out who your real friends are. I am grieved to tell you that I apparently have no friends. I was told by the host that I could bring someone along with me, but NONE of my so-called friends would agree to it after hearing the setup. Nurse me through surgery? No problem. Help me move? Check. Loan me money? Of course. Go with me to a wierd role-playing party? See ya.