Warning–If you haven’t seen this before–there’s a little bit of rough language and lots of beeps.
My husband and I play together. It has been that way since he first talked me into creating my first toon, 2 years ago, back when we were dating. We create duos that have complementing skills. We have a pair of Death Knights with different talent trees. We have a Priest/Mage duo; a Holy Paladin/Rogue duo; a Hunter/Mage duo; and a Warrior/Tankadin duo. He has found a fondness for healing—and I for tanking and casting. Even our professions are designed to work together. My Pally is an alchemist who transmutes gems for Hubby’s jewelcrafter. My mage skins animals to supply Hubby’s leatherworker. Hubby gives me money and buys me gear.
There are a few couples in our guild; but we thought that we were really the exception to the rule. My husband laughs at me because he says I am too quick to assume that most players are 14-years-old. Some players can give the illusion of being an impatient teenager when they are running through random heroics and “needing” on every item that drops. Other tips that they are teenagers are the ways that they communicate—either by nothing at all; or in text speak or LOL Speak. Hubby keeps saying to me that we are not the only adult couple on the game, but I still wonder.
Yesterday we were running heroics with our new “baby 80s”. Hubby was healing and I was playing my mage. I am much more social when I run my mage. I greet folks with “Coffee, tea, strudel?” and leave them by saying, “Anyone need a ride home?” while I open a portal. In my mind, Mages are the hosts and hostesses of the party, and I like talking up my new “guests.” In this particular instance, we were teamed up with a Dwarf Pally Tank, a Drenaei Retribution Pally with awesome gear, and an equally well-geared Druid. I served up the strudel buffet style and chit-chatted with the Druid. She seemed like a friendly person, and we became fast friends.
Hubby was healing and still a little jittery about his performance in heroics. To make matters worse, our tank left the party right before the first pull. The Retribution Pally decides to tank anyway. My hubby is livid—“He can’t tank in Ret spec! I’m going to use all my manna!”
“Oh, honey, I can always make more strudel. We’re just clearing trash. It’s okay.” I assured him.
The druid whispered to me, “Sigh. I got the Pally if he kills himself.” I chuckled and kept it to myself. The Druid and the Pally were from the same guild I noticed, so I assumed she was used to running with him.
We were doing fine until our new Tank came along. The Tank’s name was Beaver and she was a Death Knight. Beaver was aptly named, because she was as eager as they come, “Hurry up! I have to go soon!” She typed in chat and started rushing us through. She was in such a hurry that she kept right on running even when Hubby asked to stop for manna; then she did the ultimate offense and skipped a boss.
The Pally who would be tank demanded to know why we were skipping a wing. The Tank explained that she had only eleven minutes before she had to log off to go to Grandma’s house. The Pally countered with, “Then, why bother to queue up?” The druid tried to take the diplomatic approach and said, “We really just need the final boss to get our Frost Badges.” I echoed my agreement, and we went on our way.
During the final boss fight, the Pally wandered away. Hubby couldn’t see him to heal and was cussing a blue streak. I was focusing on the fight and watching my threat meter. When the blue line went above the red line, I knew I was pulling too much hate. . . check. . . . back off a little. .. check. . . . agree with husband that the Pally is an idiot. . . .check.
I thought the Pally was pouting. I envisioned him as a spoiled brat—a little boy who’s Mom had told him he could only have one cookie and not two. He pranced (Drenaei always remind me of prancing ponies when they walk) off in a huff because we were not taking on one of the bosses. I could not imagine that he really needed anything gear-wise because he had top-tier stuff! What’s one more Triumph Badge? Is it worth having a hissy fit over it?
Without warning, Beaver the Death Knight announces, “I have to go now.” The Druid says, “Wait, please?” I told her, “We’re almost done.” Beaver said, “Sorry” and disconnected. Hubby said a few choice words to his computer screen.
When the tank abandoned us, the boss headed straight for the Pally. He did not ask for help or let us know he was in trouble. The Druid did. “The Pally needs help!” she typed. Hubby and I both hurried to him, down the corridor from where we were supposed to fight the boss. There was a structure in the way of the Pally being “in sight” for heals, and nothing Hubby could do to save him. As soon as he was gone, the Boss easily killed off the druid and two clothies.
Hubby was livid. He reminded me that when a group wiped they were quick to blame the healer. I told him I blamed June Cleaver for making “The Beave” log off to go to Grandma’s house. He blamed the pouting Pally. I agreed with him, and clicked on “resurrect.” As my mage became a ghost on screen, I noticed what the Pally had written into chat—“Now we can go back and get all the bosses. I’ll tank. I need the badges.”
Hubby roared at me, “For what? He has a gearscore of six-gajillion! He sabotaged this run on purpose so he could get his one triumph badge!”
I told Hubby I didn’t know what the motivation was, but the Pally hadn’t been too bad of a tank, even in retribution spec, so maybe we could just finish this and move on. I didn’t care about what the Pally needed, but I knew I needed every badge I could get so that I could have my mage ICC ready by next weekend.
Hubby couldn’t be placated. He typed: “Find another healer then” and left the group.
I sat there with my mouth open. We were so close. The druid had been innocent, why leave her too? No tank and no healer? On our server, this would mean a very long wait in queue. I felt bad for them, particularly the druid.
She whispered me, “I am so sorry about this. I go where he goes. I have to live with him.”
It hit me at that moment. They were more than just guild mates. This was a married couple, like us. I got a imagine them, somewhere, sitting side by side at their computer desks, him cussing at his monitor and her trying to soothe him. They were just like Hubby and me. I chuckled and wrote back to her. “I feel your pain, love, I have to live with the priest too. “
She whispered me a “LOL” and a hug, which I returned, and then I clicked, “Leave party,” laughing out loud. Hubby demanded to know what was so funny, and I told him that the Druid was the Pally’s wife. He was shocked—“Maybe his mom, but not his wife! He acted like a spoiled kid that needed a spanking! He was an idiot! I’m glad he’s not on our server and I’ll never see him again!”
I laughed and wondered if somewhere, and identical tirade was going on. “That healer was an idiot! He abandoned us! All I wanted was my triumph badge, just one more and I get my next piece on my set! But, NO! He left, the Mage leaves, I just don’t understand. . . . what’s so funny?!?”
And somewhere else in the universe, a teenager that plays a death knight named beaver rides over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house with no idea about the domestic discord she (or he) caused today. Her mother drives on, wishing that she could get her daughter to stop wasting her time on computer games and grow up a little.