- Thu Feb 25, 2021 1:44:54 pm
#64502
Some time has passed now since I pretended to be Stranded™ in French Polynesia with 23 god forsaken strangers on the internet. It’s now 2026, and the cast has agreed to meet up all in one central location, some outdoor walking art museum with a fancy enough bar and restaurant centrally located. Anytown, USA. I’m an early arrival and my nerves are at end but I wait in my vehicle until exactly 18 minutes after the agreed upon start time, as to not seem socially desperate. From 100 yards away I can see Reynold and Liz arguing on the steps outside the bar. I couldn’t make their wedding a few years back due to work, but was dispirited to hear of the subsequent divorce. I’m a lot of things but I’m a big softy and fan of romance and true love, I was really routing for those kids. I heard they are back banging sometimes, and Reynold seems a decent enough step-father figure. I saved their last happy Christmas card with the newborn and stepkids. All dressed up like reindeer, but they were holding nugs rather than mistletoe. Too funny. Who can keep up with those two...
I’m relieved to see their attention is elsewhere, towards that freaking Brandon kid who is waving his pocket bible around condemning people to hell. It’s kind of his thing, one of those evangelists who goes to college campuses and tries to get people to punch him. I hear Reynold unaware of how loud he is speaking bellow “IM THE MAYOR OF POUNDEROSA BABY”...I avoid the whole situation and sneak in behind them.
My head is pounding from the loud music immediately. A large group has formed in the center of the room. Sherri, Matt, GOAT Michael, some of the early vet boots, and unsurprisingly right at the center, Alexis. Good ole’ ride or die. I didn’t really keep up with her after, I guess that’s my fault. I easily slip away on people. It’s not forgotten that she definitely burned up some of her own game capital to try to save my fruitless effort, that was sweet. I make brief enough eye contact to acknowledge I’m around. Maybe later we’ll talk some baseball, at this point I’ve hit over two dozens stadiums in the last 3 years. Not exactly my ideal RGA, but you make amends. I wink at Michael just to fuck with that guy. I’m always at least 10% troll, I can’t turn that off.
That feels like enough social for me for awhile. I slip into the stairwell to try to kill some time before I have to settle in. The stairwell reeks of weed. I know well enough to look under the stairs, my good friend Hope is settin’ criss cross apple sauce on the floor chaining through some spliffs. I sit on the ground also and lean back, eventually Hope and I realized we suffer with a lot of the same chaotic energies. The in-game joke was some kind of fuckfest between us, but I’ve always felt more like it was a kid sister type of energy. Post game I did keep up with her the most, I think she was appreciative of the tales of my own demons and struggles in my early 20s. I have a unique perspective and should have been dead a long time ago. I was always happy to show her you can come out clean on the other side, even if that wasn’t always true for me I tried to project HOPE on her.
“Hey hop”
“Suck rock-man”
We sit in silence for a few minutes. This is maybe the happiest I’ve ever been.
The room is loud enough now we can’t ignore everyone forever. I make a beeline for Hannah, in a different universe Hannah and I would have had a blast Stranded™ together. She pushes her glasses up her nose and launches right into a tirade about “those little fuckers” she teaches. There’s a lot of comfort with Hannah, she makes me belly laugh maybe like no other from the cast. I don’t know why she doesn’t slide in as a cool kid, that’s beyond my social comprehension. Her roughness is exactly what I find most endearing, you don’t have to look far beyond to see the inherent sweetness. She’s in the middle of telling me about wrestling a crocodile in Perth or some shit, but a loud siren interrupts…****WEEE OOOO EVERYBODY MOVE HANDLEMAN IS HERE****. Shamar is here, with two bottles of gin taped to his hands. I haven’t seen that in 15 years. His smile is gregarious, his style is impetuous, and the look he shoots Reynold is just ferocious. Nobody knows what he is going to do, I’m just glad I get to see it.
-------
Part 2 (& more maybe!) later
I’m relieved to see their attention is elsewhere, towards that freaking Brandon kid who is waving his pocket bible around condemning people to hell. It’s kind of his thing, one of those evangelists who goes to college campuses and tries to get people to punch him. I hear Reynold unaware of how loud he is speaking bellow “IM THE MAYOR OF POUNDEROSA BABY”...I avoid the whole situation and sneak in behind them.
My head is pounding from the loud music immediately. A large group has formed in the center of the room. Sherri, Matt, GOAT Michael, some of the early vet boots, and unsurprisingly right at the center, Alexis. Good ole’ ride or die. I didn’t really keep up with her after, I guess that’s my fault. I easily slip away on people. It’s not forgotten that she definitely burned up some of her own game capital to try to save my fruitless effort, that was sweet. I make brief enough eye contact to acknowledge I’m around. Maybe later we’ll talk some baseball, at this point I’ve hit over two dozens stadiums in the last 3 years. Not exactly my ideal RGA, but you make amends. I wink at Michael just to fuck with that guy. I’m always at least 10% troll, I can’t turn that off.
That feels like enough social for me for awhile. I slip into the stairwell to try to kill some time before I have to settle in. The stairwell reeks of weed. I know well enough to look under the stairs, my good friend Hope is settin’ criss cross apple sauce on the floor chaining through some spliffs. I sit on the ground also and lean back, eventually Hope and I realized we suffer with a lot of the same chaotic energies. The in-game joke was some kind of fuckfest between us, but I’ve always felt more like it was a kid sister type of energy. Post game I did keep up with her the most, I think she was appreciative of the tales of my own demons and struggles in my early 20s. I have a unique perspective and should have been dead a long time ago. I was always happy to show her you can come out clean on the other side, even if that wasn’t always true for me I tried to project HOPE on her.
“Hey hop”
“Suck rock-man”
We sit in silence for a few minutes. This is maybe the happiest I’ve ever been.
The room is loud enough now we can’t ignore everyone forever. I make a beeline for Hannah, in a different universe Hannah and I would have had a blast Stranded™ together. She pushes her glasses up her nose and launches right into a tirade about “those little fuckers” she teaches. There’s a lot of comfort with Hannah, she makes me belly laugh maybe like no other from the cast. I don’t know why she doesn’t slide in as a cool kid, that’s beyond my social comprehension. Her roughness is exactly what I find most endearing, you don’t have to look far beyond to see the inherent sweetness. She’s in the middle of telling me about wrestling a crocodile in Perth or some shit, but a loud siren interrupts…****WEEE OOOO EVERYBODY MOVE HANDLEMAN IS HERE****. Shamar is here, with two bottles of gin taped to his hands. I haven’t seen that in 15 years. His smile is gregarious, his style is impetuous, and the look he shoots Reynold is just ferocious. Nobody knows what he is going to do, I’m just glad I get to see it.
-------
Part 2 (& more maybe!) later
