I walk up the steps of the comic books shop. I peer inside the door and think “Why are there so many people here at this time of the evening?” Cautiously, oh so cautiously, I slowly open the door and go in. There are people sitting at tables, on the floors, crammed, packed and otherwise stuffed into this place.
I make my way to the counter, the woman at the counter says to me “Hi, welcome to Magic: The Addiction night.”
I reply “So I gathered, so to speak. I’m looking for the most recent issue of ‘Too Much Coffee Man’, do you have it?”.
“Yes, it’s back on the left,” Which I’d find out later was the other left, “if you can make your way back there.”
So I decided to brave my way.
“Thanks,” I say.
Turning away from the counter I see that there is a large man blocking the direct path. I deftly leap past him, he doesn’t notice me, intent on the cards laid before him. Once on the other side of him I casually glance around the room. No eye contact. Everyone is either playing Magic or dealing the cards. There is one small group of exception, there are two men playing StarFleet Battles (another extremely addicting game I understand). Everyone is wrapped up in the game.
I manage to work my way further back, forcing people to acknowledge my existence. I’m beginning to feel like I am in a crack house.
Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man…
Where is it?
I make my way around the end of the table, glance at the StarFleet Battlers. Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man… Nope. “This sucks,” I think, “I gotta get outta here.”
After some more searching and some more forcing my way through I make it back to the counter.
“I’m not even sure I was looking in the right place.”
“Hang on a second and I’ll help you.”
I wait. Looking at the people playing, looking at their cards. I wonder what power these cards hold over people. Was the Denny’s waitress right? Are these tools of Satan. How can cards be so addicting. These people are like a bunch of junkies. Friends of mine keep telling me about this game. One friend has taken to carrying the cards with her at all times.
Don’t touch them. Be afraid, be very afraid.
“Ok let’s see if we can find it,” the woman says. She forces her way through the crowd in the most expert of manner, eliciting grimaces from the Magicians. I follow. Ah, I think, the right, not the left, no wonder. Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man Too Much Coffee Man… There it is!
I pay for the ‘Too Much Coffee Man’ and contemplate buying a set of the Magic cards, I decide heavily against it. I thread my way to the door. A dog stands on it’s hind legs front paws on the door, staring out into the rain soaked night. I think, “Yeah you and me both pal,” and opening the door step out of this den of iniquity. I breathe the cool wet night air. Any game that addicting cannot be good. Bunch of junkies, and the dealers sitting there like, waiting for someone to come up desperate for fix of the cards. What a strange and bizarre sight it was.
I walk home.