Saturday, August 11, 2012

Toxic mana.

Winna Needs No Biohazard Sign, but sometimes I do.

I am about to stop and go make myself a cocktail. Probably one like my grandmother used to drink, hell, maybe even Scotch, sans the Pall Malls and deep Southern drawl.

Why, Matty? Bad day. No, not at all. Spent WAY too much time worrying about Canada, and Australia, and my friends, and all the stuff I have to do, and then decided to shove it all over and try to get Heartichoke as far along to exalted with the Alliance Vanguard so she could buy her chopper schematics before the big pandas roll into town, among other real life events.

Maybe that is my problem: I try to delineate between real life and game life. It is a breathing human who sits here and multitasks and games, or hell, just games. This is the life. And I know I should more be thick-skinned when this exchange happens while I'm playing Luperci, Who Is Not A Fail Tank:

We were in Well of Eternity. That first boss, the big satyr-but-not-wiser guy, I offered to eat the eyeballs, all was fine, but right when he spawned again it was right on top of the healer and I mistyped and didn't get aggro fast enough, and she/he was one-shotted. I have never seen a shaman healer go down so fast. I got a bit "WTF TANK?" and I apologized and said my typing went awry. Note the word "awry." It is important for this next part.

Then, onward, everyone up, start the hallway trash on our way to Azshara, and I'll be damned! I'm dying! I had to use LOH on trash!?

So: I said this (notice I did not take the screenshot in instance)

Spam____ passive/aggressively chose to "punish" my mistake.

And I am telling you all right now: I know some of you do this. I know some of you rage like this in guildchats, tradechats, between you and your leet friends, and judge, judge, judge. 

Stop it.

(And no, I'm not talking about you, but I am talking about you.)

After this exchange I told them to "Have a nice day," and left the party. But note, I didn't do it immediately. I thought about it, and then asked myself, "What would Big Bear do?" A tip of the hat, and out he would go.

Now, the 'woman' part of me (or gee, just human nature?) thinks, "Damn them! They got a new tank, and no one died, and they think I suck! They are justified in their thinking, in their actions, and are rewarded for their bad behavior! But, alas, this is what we all live with now-- the outrageous and snotty are rewarded, hell, they even get their own TV shows.

Should I have made the mistake? No. Was there a solar flare, butter on my fingers, or stepped on a rock, and sun got in my eyes? Yes. But guess what, Troup Meanbutts from Malfurion: I am not paid major league dollars to make your dungeon experience flawless, anymore than you are paid big bucks to make my experience perfection. It is my job to know the fights, do the best I can, and anticipate as much as I can, which I do. What if I had a degenerative disease? What there was a phone call, or the dog barked? What if an asteroid hit my house? How about this: instead of assuming I am purposely trying to ruin your day, why don't you pull your head out of your ass and enjoy the view?

But Spam, my child, my blog is becoming full of the toxicity that players like you spew. I am going to make a promise to myself, and my friends: this is my last angry post for at least...a week. Okay. Two. Two weeks. No angry posts until September 1. And maybe by then, I won't have any.

In the meantime: Heartichoke is trying just to get some soup:
Damn, rough crowd.

Theme song; Soft Cell/ Tainted Love


  1. My fear when tanking is like that. I make excuses and say I am new and hope that will excuse my lousy tanking...

  2. This is why I don't tank.

    That said, as a healer I don't think I've ever stopped healing the tank just to be a jerk because I feel like that would make me look bad too. If I get a less than awesome tank, it's just a chance for me to show what a good healer I can be.

  3. First, thank you for Tainted Love. I love it when I'm reminded of a song I love that I haven't listened to for forever.

    I don't really know how you do that anyway. I have to run around Azeroth yelling la la la, I can't hear you with my fingers stuck in my ears to remain in a happy place.

    If I had to pug with strangers for more than a five minute holiday boss I'd have to have the bottle of Scotch first and maybe a few cigars.

  4. So last night, very late last night, I read Bear's post,, and started to cry again, and realized, big epiphany, it wasn't about tanking or Azeroth or any of that nonsense. It was about me still processing events, and coming to the heartbreaking conclusion that once again, I cannot save everyone. It is also about empathy -- who has it, who doesn't. We are becoming a world divided, or perhaps we have always been this way (not sure which is more discouraging a thought), those who think of themselves and others, and those who think only of themselves.

    Cross-dressing rogue reminded me once again I am playing with many folks who have never truly been on a team. They don't know that teams, even if on a losing team, can still bond, and find great joy when they work on any success together. Many of the players are the ones who were chosen last for kickball, and they are still taking it out on the rest of the world with their pixalized weapons.

    Am I a coward for dropping group? Hell no. Sometimes self-preservation is more important. What would have happend if one of them forgot to interrupt Azshara, or not call out the hand? Chaos. It's wryly funny to me too, that about 90% of the time I pop on to see if there is a goody bag, sure enough, for tanks, there is, not necessarily healers. Players are craving tanks. And yet -- the first ones thrown under the bus. I have said this many times, tanking is way too much like my real job, both good and bad. I am there to make everyone else look good, and guess what? That is what I want, too. I want the rest of the 'players' to look good, hell, look great. I don't want them to even know I am there. I want them to stand on my shoulders and rock the house. But they must meet me halfway. And tragically, sometimes -- sometimes you just lose one, and it's not your fault. Doesn't make it any easier though, those words, and I'm not sure why. Human ego, I suppose.

    My esteemed Xak was on, and said, "Scotch, 'huh?" and recommended some good ones. Said Glenlivit was fine for everyday use (shit, if I am drinking Scotch every day, Houston, we have a proble) and Balvenie Doublewood for more special occasions.

    Navi- you are like me. We worry too much about what others think. We need a dispell for that.
    Faye- exactly! I have never once not healed someone - I may have to do a little triage, but like tanking, want everyone to focus on their parts, not mine.
    Tome - indeed. One of the best songs ever to sing along to!


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