Dungeons, Dragons, and Disaster…. Well, There Was Beer Involved

Someone I genuinely admire and consider a friend commented in one of his stories about his younger years and playing Zelda. Jason reminded me of something that happened to me many years ago. My story involves Dungeons and Dragons, nerds, and beer. I forgot everything until Jason's story sent me into a time warp. No, not the Rocky Horror Picture Show; that's another story for another time.
When I was in college, I had friends from all sections of student life. There were jocks, although not the varsity type, cheerleaders; yes, they were varsity, brainiacs, stoners, future AA members, religious lunatics, attention seekers, loners, preppies, Greeks, etc. I did not lack friends to hang around with or things to do.
I was in the marching band, so lots of friends were musicians, and naturally, there were some band geeks as well. The band friends turned out to be my closest friends in college.
I was lucky enough to audition and get accepted into the marching band because it was a rather competitive extracurricular activity at the university. I had some of the best times. I saw New Orleans, always a fun thing for a college student. The band went to Atlanta more times than I could count, and we always met a great group of alumni there who showed us all a great time.
I was always into Sci-fi, and that followed me to college. In the 1980s, cable was still relatively new, and there was no internet or real online computer shit. I watched sci-fi shows on TV with friends, and we bonded over them and had lots of laughs.
I was an outcast because I never got into D&D. The next logical step was to try that. My friends were all excited and ready to show me how things worked. They promised to take time and explain what was going on as the game progressed. What did I have to lose? I would spend the better part of a Saturday night at a friend's house and learn something new. I wasn't a total nerd, but in college, I didn't go to the big parties every weekend or drink much. My excessive drinking days were still ahead of me in the US Navy.
When I got to my friend's house, a card table was set up in the basement. Brian, my friend, started telling me the basics of the game before the other players showed up. I could tell he was excited that I wanted to learn more about D&D. The other players showed up, and I got my first reality check. Like I said, this was the 1980s with no laptops. The other players showed up with briefcases full of papers regarding their characters and their alleged superpowers. Brian came downstairs with his briefcase, and I realized I was fucked. The "Don't worry we'll help you" approach that everyone demonstrated to me as they convinced me to come over on Saturday night lasted about three turns. After that, I was on my own, adrift in utter nonsense. I asked for help but seldom got any because everyone else was busy checking their character sheets between turns and planning their next moves.
I started to lose interest in the game and the company, but at least there were snacks and liquid refreshments, aka beer. I had a little something to eat. I'm sure I missed a turn, but no one seemed to notice. The sandwiches were good, but the beer was better. Not surprisingly, everyone else was so wrapped up in the game that I drained all the beer 12 bottles. I wasn't drunk, but I felt no pain then.
I sauntered back over to the table and watched and listened some more to the game that was still going on. Eventually, Brian said, "I'm sorry, we forgot all about teaching you the game." I thought that remark was terribly funny for some weird reason. I wasn't mad at him or the others, but I realized I wasn't cut out to play D&D. Everyone encouraged me to try again. I succumbed to peer pressure and said that I would take my turn.

Of course, I was fed up with the situation and slightly drunk at this point. I took the dice and rolled. Everyone else started scanning through their notes, and I wondered, 'What in the FUCK am I doing here?' I said I wanted one more roll since I had missed many others while snacking and drinking. Everyone agreed that I could take another role because my participation level was almost zero, and they had nothing to lose, or so they thought.

My last roll was epic long before anything cool was described as epic. I took the dice, started to release them on the table, and then reached under the table and upended it. Papers flew everywhere. The players were all on the floor struggling to reconstruct their files as I just stood there. I thought how pathetic the whole scene was. I destroyed their game, and they only cared about compiling their files. I told them I was leaving, but I think they heard me. I went, returned to the dorm, and hung out with friends for the rest of the night.

I remained good friends with Brian and the others, but they never invited me to their D&D sessions again for some strange reason.