On Saturday night, Stick wanted me to go to the Cyberlore 12th anniversary party with him. It was in the Cyberlore offices, they have a cool loft-y space anyway. One room was blacklit DDR, another was just booze in coolers, Donkey Congo was set up in another, there was a big pile of Playboy stuff for raffles, and the party was catered with this awesome west indian food. Everyone who was there was either a Cyberlore programmer, designer, tester (or the date of one of those, of course) so it was hardly the typical work party.
The only problem was that I thought it would be a regular work party so I wore a loose black blouse, so I was a little overdressed. It’s not like gamers notice. When I was waiting for another shot at Donkey Congo, I noticed into an overdressed girl who seemed to be on her own, and I immediately pegged her as a girlfriend who thought it was normal work party, too. Plus she was alone, which I read as her date was off talking to his work friends. So I smiled, and asked how she knew these guys.
“From work,” was her tense answer.
Oh, no! She’s probably a programmer or a designer and I just made the annoying assumption that a girl must be a date! This is extra obnoxious coming from me, because I play games, and I used to program, and also one of the designers for the Playboy game is a woman. And if a geek girl like me makes an assumption like that, she must have gotten that kind of attitude all night! I mentally forgive her the laconic reply, and ask if she wants in on our next game of Donkey Congo. She declines, and I really hope I haven’t mortally offended her.
I’d never played Donkey Congo before, the best way I can describe it is like DDR for your hands. The object is to clap and beat out a rhythm, following the symbols on the screen. It’s amazing how many combinations you can make with four players, who can each play right hand, left hand, both, clap. I am the un-musical one in the family, but I didn’t think it would be that hard to clap when the little symbols say so. It’s actually quite challenging when you’re tipsy and laughing hard.
I think the best part of the night was when Stick’s co-workers said things like “You must be Meg” or “I’ve heard a lot about you” followed by something like “How’s your English class?/How’s the driving going?/Want to come to our games night next weekend?” That means he talks about me at work a lot! (I think he likes me!)
Later, one of Stick’s friends said we’ve got to meet someone, and introduced us to the overdressed girl from earlier! She’s a Bunny (or is it a Playmate?) that Playboy sent for the party! I feel like the ultimate dork, I met a Playmate and I asked her to play videogame bongos with me.
Do I actually have LOSER over my head, or does it just feel like that?
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