GenCon Eve

I just flew in to Indianapolis, and boy are my arms tired. OK, I actually drove. So my arms are fine, but my ass is tired. After a long two-day drive, we are right in the middle of the beginning of the annual convocation of nerdity.

I lied again. We're not in the midddle of anything. Asmodee books rooms in a hotel that is like ten miles away from the convention center. We just went to a bar, and were the nerdiest people there. I mean, that's not saying a lot, because we're pretty nerdy, but I mean everyone else was totally normal. Not one person was wearing a t-shirt with dorky sayings or pictures of stormtroopers or a bat symbol. I mean, aside from me.

But still! We are only ten miles away from the nerdiest show on Earth, and we had dinner at Steak & Shake and saw a guy wearing a camo shirt and elf ears. So we're definitely here, smack-dab in the middle of game nerdvana.

Not sure what to expect from this trip. In the past, I always stayed right downtown, and met up with the other 20 or so friends who always visit each other's hotel rooms and stay up until 2 in the morning playing games and talking about how much we love playing games designed for children. Earlier this evening, I went and visited the huge room 15 of my friends share where they bring in crates of booze and a pinball machine, and nobody gets any sleep. But now I'm pretty sure I am actually in a suburb  of Indianapolis, and I am not entirely certain what's happening tomorrow.

I would tell you that I'll give you a full GenCon report later, but I would be a liar. There are two reasons why I will not write a full GenCon report. First, those reports tend to be boring, unless I'm making fun of people who dress like homosexual demons who eat too much fried food. I hate reading GenCon reports. They usually go something like this:

"Stinkzilla Press had their game Go Big Or Go Home But Really, Just Go Home, and there was a long line for it because it was new. Garbage Games had their latest game The Thing That Did Something Amazing, and there was a long line for it because it was new. And finally, Douchebag Publishing was here with their brand new game Rechurned Crap, and even though nobody has any idea what it is about, the line was around the block because they had a full-color ad at BGG and everybody started stabbing each other and bludgeoning their friends with stones so they could get a copy. Then we left, because we are scared of crowds."

GenCon reports are BORING. Seriously, if you publish GenCon summary reports, stop doing that. They are less interesting than checking the business pages for the price of stock you don't own. If you can't punch it up and do something worth reading, just write another boring review of a boring game and pretend it's awesome so the publishers will send you more crap for free.

The second reason I won't write a GenCon report is because it is nearly impossible to actually tell you what this show is like. I mean, there are hundreds of game publishers, thousands of events, and tens of thousands of sweaty nerds with hygiene issues and underdeveloped social skills. Many of them are wall-eyed, though that can hardly be their own fault. I blame ugly parents.

Seriously, there is simply too much happening here to sum it up in any meaningful way, and trying to sum it up for people who have never seen it is nearly impossible. Instead, I intend to play some games I haven't played before and write a regular ol' review for Friday night. I have games at home I could play, but all I brought with me this trip was The Resistance, so that I could rope ten of my closest friends into playing with me so I can deceive them for my own entertainment.

If you are here at the show, stop by the Asmodee booth tomorrow and come see me. I will drop everything to greet you warmly and shake your hand, possibly even hug you, unless I don't do that and do what is actually far more likely, which would be to barely acknowledge your presence and hope you go away. One of those things, or something in-between, will definitely be what I will do.

Unless you bring a Sharpie. Then I will sign your boobs.