a cautionary tale of sandglasses — the lost paragraphs
Oh, you know what?
In my recent report on Orccon, an entire section was mysteriously excised from the final product, rather like accidentally leaving your supporting actor’s Oscar moment on the cutting room floor.
So here it is (it goes just after the paragraph in which I recount meeting Liz):
So it’s obvious that Liz beats me hand’s down in a geek contest (I can still feel the burn of her sneer when she told me she had games scheduled for 10pm that night, long after my departure — the shame, the shame), crushing my feebleness between her endless scheduled games days and trips to the comics shop to read indie comics (while I pathetically nerd over superheroes in tights). What I didn’t mention was her obvious powers over all the men who surrounded her. I shall relate:
So I walk up to this table at which are sat four perspiring fellas and one goddess. Now, I’m not one of those people who feels surprise when beholding a female at a gaming convention anymore — I think we’ve all gotten used to the pleasing fact that more and more women are brave enough to endure man-odor and attend. But you just don’t expect to meet such a sublime paragon of the sex over a game of Game of Thrones. You just don’t. I remarked thusly (while completely distracting her from her game): “You’ve thrown the hormone balance completely off at this table.” And she had. The other players will no doubt try to deny it, but the beads of perspiration and nervous hands were not because their little wooden pieces were being trounced by other little wooden pieces. Can I put this delicately? This is the first game I’ve observed where five males were uncomfortably crossing their legs, in unison. And it’s not because they needed to pee…
‘S funny — on the way back to my car I could have sworn that I kept seeing dragonflies at the edge of my vision. Strangest thing.