Let's get something off my chest.
I don't hate games. I can't play them.
Video games, board games, card games, it doesn't matter what they're selling. I won't even do crosswords or Sudoku. As much as I love the idea of roll playing games, I can't sit through them. I can lovingly eyeball the awesome dice and paint the little figurines. There's no trouble reading the manuals or even creating characters, but when it comes time to play...
~As I sit there, a sliver of electricity coils inside my stomach. My muscles start to tense up and irritation builds and builds until I feel queasy, a film of sweat breaks out on my forehead, and the urge to lash out and punch the wall/sculpture/person/cat next to me gets overwhelming. No one wants that.
But I want everyone to know I don't like being called a "party pooper." It is not now, nor has it ever been, my mission in life to screw up the party for everyone else because they need me to be player six and I won't do it. I really want to join in the fun, but I can't.
You'd think my aversion to Monoply was un-American.
Okay, bad example :P
But seriously, the whining and pushing and begging makes them look like a toddler who can't have a Ring Pop. No means no, right? I'm not going to badger an adult who doesn't want to eat the Brussels sprouts.
To be fair, I understand that one. I hate Brussels sprouts.
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