JeepChick was one of our lucky members who attended PAX East, and while this isn't a recounting of her experience there, per se, it is an account of the joy of spending time with her "online" friends as opposed to her "real life" friends. That begs the question: which kind of friend is the more real?
At PAX East I was able to attend a fantastic panel about online gaming communities and real life relationships. The panel included new faces, but familiar names: DSmooth, codemonkey, Lady J, Wombat, Waterborn. Though it was the first time meeting some of them, after the first “F-bomb,” I knew I was among friends.
I didn’t notice that the Manticore Theater was packed, until a friend texted me because she couldn’t get in, a friend whose name is listed by her gamertag, and not her actual name, in my contact list.
Trying to explain the importance of gaming to a “real life” friend is difficult at best, and yet, here was an entire theater of individuals who understood it. Any one of them would get why I preferred to be called Jeep instead of Claire at events. They could commiserate with me about trying to get the kiddos to bed so I can put some quality time in with my “online buddies,” and understand why I cried when I spawned on Crash and saw my favorite map with a glossy new finish.
While my RL friends might sneer at my gaming habit, these online friends embrace my nongaming activities. Often, they know more about what’s going on in my life than my RL friends do.
After sharing I feel like I know you before I meet you. There’s no awkward introduction, no handshake or nod. It’s an instant, “Hi,” and a crippling bear hug. And when you finally get to the LAN or meet-up or whatever, and you hear that voice across the room and know instantly who that person is before you lay eyes on them. It’s a profound experience that generations before us cannot comprehend.
In some ways, meeting a person online first gives you a distinct advantage. On Xbox Live, you can’t hide your voice -- the inflection that shows you had a bad day or the exclamations when your kids or pets do something insane right in the middle of a clutch CTF match, or the belly laugh that makes the mic crackle. But those insights make hanging out together for real that much better.
Unfortunately, it’s all a big tease. Any gaming event is. For three or four precious days I am 100 percent myself without having to put the mask of “normalcy” or filter out those verbal responses that include the phrases “PWND” or “UNISON BONUS!” I can wear the shirt that says, “TITS or GTFO.” I can flaunt the blue streaks in my hair instead of hiding them carefully in a pony tail.
All too quickly, the flight back is upon me and the cover-up begins. My only solace is frantic late night gaming with those disembodied voices who’ve become my “real” friends, who I know have homes and families somewhere beyond the internet. They are people I would love to hang with weekly, do the Sunday BBQ, or go camping with. I can’t keep them as close as I would like, but our friendship on the web doesn’t make it any less real.
So until the next event, the next meet up, or the next valid excuse to drag out those knee-high, lace-up platform boots and gears tags, I leave with the wise words of Dom Santiago - “Sup, bitches.”
