Everything I Need to Know I Learned from Dungeons & Dragons Read Free

were
adults.
And not adults with children. They were (mostly) men who were here for their own purposes. I tried to imagine what could get me up at 8:30 on a Saturday morning to stand in line with a bunch of strangers. Anniversary Sale at Nordstrom Rack? Nothing I can’t get online. Ben & Jerry’s Free Ice Cream Cone Day? Small servings prove to be not worth the wait in line. The chance to win a makeover by Stacy and Clinton from
What Not to Wear
? Heck, no. Well, maybe.
    When the store opened and the festivities began, it was less “silver anniversary party” and more “brother’s birthday party.” Tables were filled with dice and miniatures and eraser shavings. The authors and designers held court. There was lots of laughter—the kind of eruptive, collective laughter that succeeds a story that’s going to be told for years to come. Most of these guys didn’t know each other when they showed up that morning, but within the hour it was like a regular old family reunion. Except this was a reunion everyone wanted to be at and not one your mother blackmailed you into attending. These people had clearly connected over a common love: my strange, reclusive co-worker, Dungeons & Dragons.
    That was the first time I saw a sampling of the people outside of work play D&D. They were disappointingly normal in jeans and T-shirts. Not a speck of armor or chain mail in the whole joint. No weird accents (unless they had one naturally; this was Texas, after all). Just a bunch of happy people, spending the afternoon at a bookstore, celebrating the anniversary of a game they obviously loved. What would Judy say about this little scene?
    Although I wasn’t exactly ready to join them at the table, I developed a protective feeling for D&D, mostly because the people I met were so passionate and thoughtful and grateful. And their stories. Some of them had been playing for all of twenty-five years. They regaled each other with tales of their first characters. Every story started with “And then there was this one time …” and ended with “It was awesome.…”
    Suddenly D&D had a face, a personality, and I found myself telling my friends to “shut up!” when they asked me how much it cost to dry-clean all of my black capes.
    â€œIs that frankincense you’re wearing?” my friend Dan asked one day.
    Those were fighting words. It was Coco Mademoiselle, thank you very much.

    Unlike most of my co-workers, I was no expert on D&D, but I was instantly drawn to the way it was played. The inside jokes, the character backstories, the moments of greatness. The lack of competition. If you’ve read
Confessions of a Part-Time Sorceress
you know what happens next. If you haven’t read it, go on and do that now.
    It’s okay.
    I’ll wait.
    Weird, right? A nice girl like me started playing D&D! And the kicker? We fell in love. It hit me as soon as my Dungeon Master, Teddy, handed me my freshly penciled-in character sheet and a beautiful miniature elf with flowing blonde hair and bubble gum-pink robes. I named her Astrid.
    â€œThe other elves are going to call her
Ass
,” Judy warned.
    â€œNo, they’re not. Elves are very refined creatures. Only someone with barbaric tendencies and the couth of an eight-year-old boy would be so cruel.”
    â€œWell, her Grandma’s going to call her
Ass.
”
    Oh yes, this was a much different game than I’d ever known. Much different than those basement billiards games with Judy. There wasn’t a clear winner or loser. You and your party worked together. You shared the victories and the failures. You knew your role and supported one another. Sometimes you even faced the occasional loss. Some hurt more than others. (I still miss you, Freya—the best Dragonborn BFF an elf could have!)
    Even Judy came around once I started recapping my weekly games with her.
    â€œYou tell stories and make up characters?