The Game!

I lose!

And you lose too!

What? You don’t know what the game is? Excuse me while I go steal RealCTY’s entry.

*STEALS* Ahem….

The rules of The Game are numbered five at Lancaster, and this numbering is given more importance at the site than any other.

  1. If you think about The Game, you lose, and must loudly declare that you lose, by saying “I lose” (or something similar, although “I lose” is used almost ubiquitously). After losing, if anyone asks about The Game, you must immediately induct everyone in the area into The Game by telling them these rules.
  2. After losing, you get a thirty minute grace period in which you cannot lose.
  3. If you die within this grace period, you lose forever.
  4. If you die outside of this grace period, you get a patch but you do not win. The only person known to be eligible for a patch at the current time is Phil Gunn.
  5. TO KNOW THE GAME IS TO PLAY THE GAME (this should be said in a deep, ominous voice).”

Outside of CTY, people will look at you a little funny if you say merely “I lose,” but if you say “I just lost the Game!” you will get mixed reactions. CM will tell you to free your mind, CR will slap the table and say “Fuck! I lost the game!”, and LA will yell “I JUST LOST THE GAME!” while laughing, and giving me the finger. LA’s reaction is quite funny to watch, as not many people around him acknowledge the Game, and will look at him weird.

LA is in marching band. He is one of the only people I know who can tolerate *, a kid who pretty much no one likes because of general creepiness and overhelpfulness and randomly “quitting” marching band only to come back the next day. Case and point: Yamaha Cup competition at Giants Stadium yesterday. I was sitting with LA and KP, and I was closest to the aisle. * spread his stands jacket out on the  floor and asked “Luna, can you make sure no one steps on my head?” I asked why he was lying down, and he said becausde he was tired. Five minutes later he asked if I thought that the paint on the walls was lead paint.  I said I didn’t know. “Just by looking at it, Luna, PLEASE!” I asked somewhat skeptically how I was supposed to know that by looking at it, as I was, and still am, not a paint expert. He got up, probably scared of little lead paint monsters, and I fled to the higher reaches of the stands. Later, he asked two girls if he could hold their hands when the scores were announced, as he tended to get nervous, something that recieved many criticisms on the bus. Even I thought that was creeper-ish, and I know creepers. I’ve been to CTY, remember?

On the way back to the bus, I talked to LA and then got swallowed up by the display of the Cadets. When I caught up to the band, LA was with *, who I had no desire to talk to. He continued to talk to *, and I amused myself by looking for cute guys in other bands without turning my head. * is not on my bus, LA is, but * and LA continued to talk all the way to the bus. Once * had turned to leave, I needed to laugh, so I yelled to LA “I LOST THE GAME!” LA responded in his typical fashion, but *’s reaction was LA x10, and his reaction was the subject of much lulz on the bus home.

Now what? My position on the * torment is neutral. Do I keep losing the Game in my usual fashion and make * a scapegoat for more tormenting? Or do I lose the Game quietly? Or do I free my mind? A true dilemma.


~ by Luna on October 12, 2008.

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