A pair of feet step into my peripheral vision. I look up to see a male counselor, beach towel and book in hand.
“Mind if I sit?” he asks.
I make an inviting gesture and mark my place in the novel with a finger. He arranges his towel, kicks off his sandals, loses his shirt in the hopes of decimating his melanin’s alabaster hue and sits down.
“You ever play fantasy role-playing games?” he asks me after some small talk and counselor to camp speaker banter. The nearly inaudible and conspiratorial way he asks this is normally the kind reserved for counselors who want to confess some deep dark secret and ask, “how far is too far” in a dating relationship, or inquire about Song of Songs.
When I respond to the affirmative, he becomes animated. Once a fellow tabletop role-player has been identified, the proper geek etiquette involves a series of “secret handshakes” and esoteric lingo involving the mechanics of gaming, the idiosyncrasies of gamers, and inevitably, the question of whether or not I
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