Oddsmosis

Every year I spend four days in Indianapolis, walking amongst my fellow nerds and saying things like "Do you really want to attack the troll?" and "Your charm person spell does not seem to have an effect on the zombie minotaur." And I indulge in ludicrous pursuits like trying to get the best picture I can of the steampunk Boba Fett -- i.e., one without a "Cinnabon" sign in the background.

It's Gen Con, the annual event where I soak in the geekery of 40,000 people descending on a single city to try out board games, play Dungeons & Dragons, and compare notes on which World of Warcraft costume is most accurate. It's a process I call "oddsmosis."

• You know what is awesome about the redeye? It is a direct flight and you get there at 5:15am!
• You know what is NOT awesome about the redeye? 5:15am Indy time is 2:15am LA time! This is not helped by the fact that the six-foot tall dude next to you played games on his phone all night.
• It is also not helped that at 5:15am it's EIGHTY-ONE degrees in Indianapolis.
• Man, it's like a swamp in here.
• A swamp with a NASCAR track and a long stripmall full of retail failure.
• Fortunately your good friends have two things: a futon and central air.
• After a nap, it's time for breakfast, and then the nerds start showing up.
• The nerds do not like to be referred to by their real names. The nerds like to be referred to by their internet message board names. So you hear a lot of things like "Hey Myrthavion, Zombie_Rockstar wants another beer."
• Even though it's roughly 700 degrees outside, you convince Myrthavion, Zombie_Rockstar, and the other nerds to stand in the front yard and play Kubb.
• In the end, it's not the heat that sends everyone running for the house, it's the mosquitoes.
• Nerds don't have a lot of blood. That's why they are so pale!
• Some nerds get exsanguinated so badly that at the end of the night, they have to sleep on the couch.
• Dear nerds,
  
  If you get exsanguinated, do not try to replace your lost blood with an equal volume of beer or bacon-infused bourbon. Also, if you are too exsanguinated to drive home, it is generally considered polite to ask if you can sleep on the couch.
  
  Your friend,
  -Tom
• The first day of the Con is dedicated to three things:
  1. Walking the exhibitor hall. (OOH! MORE dice!!)
  2. Judges' meeting for the NASCRAG tournament. (OOH! MORE changes!!)
  3. Eight contiguous hours of running Round One of the NASCRAG tournament. (OOH! It's really late and I'm getting tired!!)
• Round One is notable mostly for the woman who plays the super-gregarious and incorrigibly-flirty kobold gypsy girl. Or as we like to call her, "FUN Tara."
• The woman playing FUN Tara has a mind that would put a locker room full of high school sophomore boys to shame.
• In one particular puzzle, letters drop from a top row of words to form a bottom row of new words. "I have the first four, but I don't even know if they're right," says the goblin cleric. My co-DM, who I'll refer to as "FUN DM" tells the cleric, "No, that fits down there, the words you've got feel good to you."
• The party is stuck on the last word. "P H _ L _ _ _."
• FUN Tara raises her hand and then leans over the table at us. "Is it... PHALLUS? I think it's PHALLUS, Mr. DM. Tell me, does that fit down there? Does it feel good to me down there...?"
• FIVE MINUTE BREAK, EVERYBODY.
• At the end of the round, after the players have left and we're compiling the scores, I turn to FUN DM. "That was something else, huh?" I say. "You don't know the half of it," he replies, "she had her hand on my knee the whole time."
• I tell him, next time I'm sitting on the right.
• Friday consists of two more slots of NASCRAG Round One. Fortunately (UNfortunately?) no one gets fondled.
• We did have two people who were completely blind play in one session. That made some of the puzzles difficult, but they were awesome role-players.
• Plus, if you're blind, you're not as likely to get sidetracked by the red herring handouts the FED*UPS guy delivers halfway through the round.
• Saturday is dedicated to three things:
  1. The semi-final round of NASCRAG.
  2. The final round of NASCRAG.
  3. Getting pictures of people in elaborate, uncomfortable costumes.
• Hey, do you know what's fun about wearing a corset?
• Yeah, I can't figure it out either. But you get your picture taken a lot.
• On the other hand, if you just want your picture taken a lot, throw on some overalls, a green t-shirt, and a puffy hat and go as Luigi from Super Mario Brothers. Sure, it doesn't flatter your cleavage as much, but the upside is you can breathe normally.
• In the battle to balance cleavage vs. respiration, I'm inclined to side with respiration.
• On the other hand, my cleavage leaves a lot to be desired.
• No wonder nobody took my picture.
• NASCRAG Round Two semifinal! My team got disintegrated six times, petrified twice, and made a space capsule out of plumbing pipes, duct tape, and a plastic tarp.
• Sounds about right.
• After Round Two, FUN DM comes hustling up to me. "DUDE! I owe you!" he huffs. "Why? What happened?" I ask. "FUN Tara gave me a lap dance. TWICE."
• I need to be more discerning when I'm assigning teams. All I got was some Tollhouse Cookies and a Diet Dr. Pepper.
• That's not a euphemism.
• During the dinner break I hang out with my buddy Kelly from Utah. A couple of kids pass us on the street, engaged in a frenetic recap of some event they just played. "See, Kelly," I say, "that's what Dungeons & Dragons is all about. Two 15 year-old kids walking down the block, going 'No, the COOLEST part was when you kicked in that door...' That's what D&D is, right there."
• Kelly turns to me and says, "And what is it when two 30-something guys fly 1500 miles to get dressed up in hokey doctor costumes and play Dungeons & Dragons every year?"
• I pause for a moment to consider. "That's strike three on your match.com profile."
• By the time Sunday rolls around I am completely exsanguinated of whatever nerd juices I had. It turns out oddsmosis works in reverse.
• I try to maintain my minimum levels of geekery before I do something drastic, like take up fantasy football or go outside in the sun. A shandy and a game of Carcassonne helps.
• (I can't be too bad off, I complete a 44-point Lommelopolis and manage to encroach my farmers onto both of the major fields.)
• Then, about the time I have to leave, Myrthavion, Zombie_Rockstar, and the rest of the nerds show up.
• I bolt for the airport, but they know I'll be back next year.
• At least I have twelve months to put together my City of Lost Children costume.

-Tom, who's wondering where a guy can source parts for a Cyclops headpiece.