Games of Chance

I love a good game of chance. At least, in theory, I love a good game of chance. But it’s like impact play, really. It’s really hot to think about it. I don’t actually know why that is. But, then when the time approaches, I get very nervous and if I wasn’t careful, would excusify my way out of it happening. Then of course when it’s happening, well… instantly after, just… wow. Too many levels to unpack right this instant.

close up photo of a wooden roulette
Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on

There’s just a lot wrapped up in that.

These games of chance with Charmer are similar. I love the idea. I love the thought of totally random, unplanned games that can be everything from fun to super challenging.

When she walked out that morning and put down the dice, getting her tea, I pretended I didn’t see it. There simply wasn’t any other reason to wander out first thing in the morning with a D&D die – and I was now in that nervous stage, wondering what was up.

[Charmer: Ha. I wanted you to see it and wonder…]

Maybe if I ignore it, she’ll forget? Ha!

Finally, she told me to roll it. I asked why, stalling. I wanted to know what I was in for, or getting in for, before I did. But of course, that’s not for me to know – she wouldn’t say, just saying I needed to roll.

My first roll was a 0.

Now, I admit that I stuttered mentally a bit at this. I thought perhaps it was the equivalent of 0 or 00 in roulette – that it was an extreme situation that would be happening, rather than a more muted one if other numbers had been rolled. I quickly tried to guess in my own head, exactly what that could mean. Yeah, I missed it completely.

[Charmer: Hmm…a roulette wheel. I think I’ll have to investigate buying one of those]

“Roll again” was all I got. I didn’t know why, but…

So this time, a 7.

Innately, my brain was going – “7? 7!? A number on the bigger end of the scale possible with that roll can’t be all that great. Way to go, Snake. Way to make it, whatever it is, harder.”

I was right.

Turns out it was the number of edges, per hour, over the next 10 hours. Holy crap. 70?! The rules came out, the fact that 50% were to be her doing and 50% mine. (Which she KNOWS makes me crazy uncomfortable, ’tis why she does it.) No “oopsies” – otherwise punishment, etc.

[Charmer: I was nice. I considered making it all on him. He just LOVES when I sit and watch him.]

But 70?!??!?

I noticed something throughout the day. The hours get shorter and shorter and seem to run together a bit when you’re trying to recover and do life things in addition to play things. Not only that, but it really, really messes with your mind when you have 2 to go in a given hour and only 55s left on the clock. Holy crap. (I pulled it off… heh, so to speak, with seconds to spare)

[Charmer: Barely. You really like to live on the edge. Edge. See what I did there?]

I also found out that her approach is very different from mine. Never thought about that before, the big difference is the wait time – hers, nearly non-existent. Mine is cavernous (by comparison) up to probably 30s to slow the internal world down a little to take on the next one.

It was challenging, a blast, sexy as hell, fun, and totally random in all the great ways.

And that’s my Charmer.

[Charmer: Cue the angel emoji. Or is it devil?]

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