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Psycho Friends

When I was around 12-14 years old, I had a “friend” who was a pure psycho. Notice I put the word in quotation marks — I actually considered him a friend for about a year, and he considered me a friend for two or three years.

At first, we had fun together. He lived in my neighborhood, and we played some Star Wars action figures together, and played Atari together. He also introduced me to two of my favorite games: RISK and Dungeons & Dragons.

In RISK, he would always put a token on the corner of the game board and say it was his nuclear bomb. If I started winning the game, he’d “set it off” by hitting the corner and overturning the whole board, throwing pieces and cards all over the room. I could never win a game of RISK against him, and I gave up playing with him after about half a dozen tries.

In D&D, he was a power-mad Dungeon Master. If you aren’t familiar with D&D, I can’t describe the type to you. If you are familiar with D&D (or any role playing game), you probably already know the type.

Fortunately, I stopped playing either game with him, and I found other gamers with more self control and respect for others. The last time I ever went into his house alone, or really had any personal, solo contact with him, he chased me around his kitchen table with a butcher knife.

Yep, that’s right, my “friend” chased me with a big knife. Even at the time, I didn’t think he was really trying to cut me, but I did feel that if I didn’t show enough fear, and try to run from him, he probably would have hurt me just to get the reaction he wanted. He wanted me afraid of him right then, for reasons I couldn’t and can’t fathom. (Out of young stupidity, I didn’t tell my mom about that incident until about 20 years later.)

For the next couple of years, he spoke of me as a friend even though I really didn’t have much to do with him on a personal level. I had new and better and non-psycho friends with whom to hang out, talk about girls, and play games with (not necessarily in that order).

A few years later, a couple of my then friends met this old friend (two separate and unrelated encounters), and they related how they thought he was very strange. I graduated high school with this guy, and then he went into the navy. I can only hope the military discipline straightened him out, or maybe he’s sitting on death row somewhere.

Bullgrit

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