Let me take you back to the heady days of 1997. Clinton was in office, and at the risk of beating a dead horse with a really stupid joke, he was, as they say, getting his weiner sucked. The dot-com boom was entering COCAINE-INDUCED DIGITAL FRENZY MODE, but like many young Americans, I had no idea that there was an internet beyond the confines of AOL keywords and chat rooms. Yes, for many years, I was a user of AOL. I am not proud of this fact, but nevertheless, it is a part of me. A non-malignant tumor, in all likelihood.
Back then, there was a game on AOL called DragonRealms. It actually still exists, albeit with far fewer users than it had at its peak. It was basically a MUD (multi-user dungeon, for the unsullied among you). It was nerdy as all get-out, and since I was a fat kid without fashion sense or a robust social network, I spent many adolescent evenings in the Crossing, hunting rats at the shipyard, skinning them with my cutlass, and selling them for pennies. I then graduated up to goblins and cougars, and boy, those were exciting times.
But what really separated DragonRealms from the massively-multiplayer games that we have now was that it was primarily a social game. Even though the game's combat and crafting systems were brilliantly designed, levelling and "theorycrafting" both took a back seat to the game's content and story. Another way to put it is that the players were people that knew how to read and enjoyed doing so. Most people that know how to read don't have a lot of friends. That's just a simple axiom that everyone can agree on. So, logically, these people who knew how to read would socialize with their fellow agoraphobes in the mystical land of Zoluren and its environs.
I had played the game in a very casual fashion as Charlo, the Dwarven Paladin. I was shitty at the game but I had fun. More importantly, I learned about life and love. It was in DR that I met Shetan Johar, an Elven Cleric who had cast a charm spell on my heart. She had violet eyes, just like Elizabeth Taylor. We laughed and chatted together in the Crossing, trading adolescent observations about good parenting, cinema, knock knock jokes, and some dreadfully misinformed notions about procreative processes. We grew very close, or at least as close as the indifferent 28800 baud bonds of AOL would allow.
One day, Shetan told me that her mother was going to cancel their AOL account. We were both heartbroken. We resolved to stay in contact via mail. After swearing to contact me, she said "I hope I see you again" and vanished into digital oblivion, never to return to DragonRealms.
To my astonishment, about a month after that incident, I received a letter from an unfamiliar address. Jubilation! A letter from my lost e-love! I opened the envelope to discover that she had calligraphied my real name on it with a blue pen (parts of it had white-out on it. Calligraphy is fucking hard, okay?) It smelled of air freshener and reunion.
Here, faithfully transcribed, is that letter in its entirety:
Charlo,
Hey, how ya doin'? I'm pissed at my mom but thats usual lately. I wish I could talk to you, I miss you so much. I'm in one of my foul moods, I think its withdrawl, ::laugh::. Anyways how are things up there? I'm trying to think of a way to get AOL back so I could talk to you again. I feel like I just gave up all my friends. I know I didn't but thats what it feels like. It would be so cool if I met you one day but I doubt that would ever happen. Do you think you might be able to call me sometime? If you can't thats ok but I'd really like to talk to you. I wish I could call you but with the state of mind my mom's in I doubt it, she keeps saying its a waste of money (she won't even let me pay for it). Either way I'll try to call you if you give me your number. Mail me a recent picture of you ok? ...or two or three. ::grin:: My dad's mad at me now ::sigh:: ....I'm not used to him being mad at me. He's mad 'cause I cut my hair without calling him first. I know I should have but I didn't think about it because I don't live with him and I only see him three times during the year....god I wish that was a good excuse. Anyways! I don't know how I got on that subject. I'm going to have to try to find some of my good pictures or take some new ones. I guess I should get new ones since I cut my har. ::shrug:: I dunno. Oh yeah I'm glad you have my necklace. It kinda made me feel special, that you wanted it I mean. Shelley kept asking what you were to me, I really didn't know what to tell her. I couldn't tell if you were being completly in character or OOC or what. Obviously I can't keep my mind on one topic. Oh well! I'm trying to think of somethin' else to say but I'm running out of ideas. Okay I'll describe myself so you'll have to do the same.
Like I said I have dark brown hair, which is now only about three inches past my shoulder (its so short!!!!), brown eyes, I'm 5'1", and 95lbs., and I usually have a tan. I don't wear glasses, I used to though, I don't smoke, drunk, do drugs etc. etc. I have a little white American Eskimo - dog, her names Sassy. I already told you that I sold the horse I had. That's what pic. I'll send you! One of me riding! My best side! ::grin:: Ummmm........I like riding, blading, arguing, talking to my friends, hanging w/my friends, ....I really like talking to you. Thats about it. I gotta go so I can sulk and try to change my moms mind ::grin:: Well I'll see ya.
Shannon Harris
2-19-97
P.S.
My phone # is XXX-XXX-XXXX call me if you can. Can you give me your #too? Alright thats it. G'bye.
I believe I mailed her back, and that she mailed me back one more time, but I don't know what happened to either letter. In the end, we weren't meant to be. Shetan, if you're out there, I'd just like to say thanks for the memories, and also that I hope you weren't a rapist, because if so, well played, good sir.
The internet. Where the men are men, the women are men, and the children are men who want to rape you.
ReplyDeleteAlso, how did you grow apart if you had her phone number? Unless these were the days where phones needed a portable power pack trundled along in a wheelbarrow behind them and only had enough range to call the man down the street.
My morse code was really bad as a kid, so I accidentally called her a "whore-mouthed strumpet" when I actually meant to call her a "totally rad dude." This was the 90's, you see, and times were different. You couldn't talk to a lady the same way as you kids do now, what with the Tweeter and your Spacebooks.
ReplyDeleteMy best guess is that my parents weren't too keen on paying for long distance calls to some random person. I was actually so shy as a kid that I may not have even brought it up to them. FOREVER ALONE.