The oddest thing just happened. I walked past the outside steps of an office building where I often work - to have lunch with best friend and fellow designer in his office. And outside the steps sits a redhaired, red bearded man with an oddly familiar look. Thumbing through the newest Iain Banks novel, he looks back at me. And before we know we're grinning and shaking hands.
He's an old friend and role player. He used to play in my Dark Dungeon group when it was a few hundred people strong, in the nineties. Alright, he played more GURPS and WFRP, but his regular group also played in my games - a lot. We kind of lost track of eachother almost ten years ago, and guess what? He's working in the same building as I and fellow DD2 designer, for the past three and a half years. And we never noticed that we were so close! Weird!
He still plays - every monday - with the same regulars as then. For twenty years now.
Unbelievable, I say.
I also still play - nearly every friday or saturday - with my own group of regulars. I see him grin. Unbelievable.
My fellow game designer at first doesn't recognize our fellow gamer.
But then he exclaims "wait a minute, you have a huge painting made by me!".
"That's right, it's on my son's wall, in plain view!"
Some things don't really change - even if they do. Even if we lose track of eachother.
That's good to know.
