Hey Redditors! What's up?
I'm relatively new here, but better late than never. However, haven't been oblivious to the community support on Reddit.
So, I'm here to ask for a small favour.
I'm currently involved in a critical fintech project at a growth-stage startup, and we're exploring opportunities in the Indian credit card market. The specifics of what, how, and when are still under scrutiny, but for now, we're focused on conducting user research in this domain.
I'm sharing a brief survey (maximum 2 minutes) about credit card usage. Please fill that. I am hoping this community will surprise me with a good response rate. (It is an anonymous survey, no personal information will be collected)
I come bearing gifts for the favour. I've been consolidating a list of credit card hacks as part of my research and I will post the list once it's done.
*I promise not to include false tips but only well-researched, meaningful hacks all in one place.
Link to the survey: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSciVwRGv3IdK3HTI5ktc-J9GtWdQJNqCLIZxRJMDwrkJCn93g/viewform?usp=sf_link

Goldie lives between the forrest and the farm, in a caravan park esk lifestyle. She collects trash and thrifts items to sell occasionally, but still struggling to make ends meet and care for her daughter, she borrows food from her uncles Dobie’s farm.
Marina owns a bunch of different shops and activities around the beach. Owning a big franchise. Becoming quite the public figure with her bubbly demeanour and close professional connection with Tom Nook.
Fauna and Molly live together in the forest and have their own side of the beach, unbothered by marinas marketing. And free to fish. They sell what they catch as well as a wide selection of wild flowers.
Lily is also into marketing, having connections to the tailors, nooks cranny and being the manager of all camp activities. Making her the mutual enemy of marina and the underdog.
Pekoe and Genji live secluded from all the other villagers in their own hidden but extravagant zen garden. Where they gossip about the others. Coming from lucrative backgrounds they’re set with imports and exports.
Judy’s friends with blathers, Celeste and Lily , living not that far away from the museum, and owning her own star grove and lookout. That is very popular with the tourists. Lily and her organise tours and activities for visitors.
And finally maple and Dobie tend to the orchard and their small farm, exchanging their fruits and vegetables with fauna and Molly for fish. Who only live on the other side of the river from them.

Alright, folks, gather around because I've got a bone to pick. I don't understand it. You've got these developers out here creating absolutely brilliant SaaS apps—gorgeous UI, seamless functionality, features that could make you weep with joy. And then... BAM! They decide to translate their app, and it's like watching a Picasso being turned into a kindergarten finger painting.
Either don't translate your app at all if it's already in English (which is fine, by the way), or if you're going to do it, for the love of all things tech, do it correctly. Because nothing says "I don't care about my product" like a poorly translated interface. It makes your app look like a cheap piece of junk. It's like buying a Rolex and realizing the "L" fell off.
Translation is not hard, people. Just don't use Google Translate unless you want your app to sound like a drunk robot. Just use DeepL. It does translations 10x better and is free as well. Why do you guys keep bothering with Google Translate? When it comes to German it literally translates "Let’s go" to "Lass uns gehen" which basically means "Let’s leave". Quite the opposite, huh?
Imagine this: You're on your shiny new app, ready to tackle the world, and then you hit a button that says "Submit your cow." Excuse me? I didn't realize I was on a farm simulator. Or the classic "Press the button for enter the next." Enter the next what? The next dimension? The next existential crisis? Who knows!
I mean, these developers have already done the hard part—coding, designing, testing, deploying. Yet they stumble at the finish line because they can't get the text right. It's like a chef creating a five-star dish and then dumping a can of spray cheese on top. All that hard work, ruined by something so simple.
So, dear SaaS developers, please, I'm begging you. Invest in proper translation tools. Your users will thank you, and your app won't look like it was translated by a toddler with a dictionary.
Oh, and if anyone has questions about German translations, hit me up. I'm so tired of seeing BS translations that make my eyes bleed. I'd be happy to help out and save the world from more translation disasters.

I'm testing out the 5 free gifts thing, I've never used Temu before so I don't even know if it'll work but if someone can complete it for me, I'll gladly help them! (I may need multiple people, I'm not sure)

Can you accept my invitation? You will get so many free gifts worth $300 in return！Nudge nudge... https://onelink.shein.com/2/3nhuh6jj8s9p

Sorry, don't mean to add to the gazillion gifted kid narratives out there but wanted to process this with some folks. In my experience a couple things happened. (Sorry in advance for the worlds worst green text):

• Being a gifted kid - the expectation was that I would go hard core into academia, and I ended up with less survival and basic marketable skills
• Turns out the "fancy" University I went to was so freakin' conservative. There was no velvet rage era for me or my colleagues - profs/students were very aware of the concept of gay people and caused tons of problems if they detected anything fruity
• It was really hard to study in an environment where you literally live with homophobes like that 24/7. Lots of lectures about dandelion vs orchid children while people applaud the most basic wealthy straight people for their "resilience"
• The gay community at large kinda freaking hated nerds or did hate nerds at the time. Definitely did not find support there, so caught between rock and a hard place
• I was super dependent on family - so when "it gets better" rolled around and I was dumb enough to come out to them to try to create some peace in my life I guess
• The economy collapsed starting in 2008 (thank you Bush administration). This only made boomer parents and colleges more powerful
• My parents, being the kind of anxious people that craft a "gifted kid," went batshit and like sent me to psychiatrists, loaded me with SSRIs and my junk didn't work
• Had to drop out of school due to bullying and social exclusion (shocked face)
• Talk to psychiatrist about my junk not working and feeling a disconnect from the gay community due to not finding support during my coming out. This prompts him to try to conversion therapy me.
• I go on to have issues with relationships for years because I never had a safe place to process my weird trauma around interacting with other gay people
• Transfer back to my "unprestigious" state school. Way better environment but I still get shamed about this in job interviews to this day
• The lead up to a "gifted child" career track meant years groveling in low paid work while living with my parents who hate gay people and had bad vibes around me dating, not that I could afford to date anyways
• Going into the kind of "gifted person" career I was supposed meant like an additional decade dealing with weird conservative institutions that were unprepared to accept gay people. It was trash
• I gave up on "it getting better" and basically pulled together my own community out of the internet through hard work and gumption? This process has been incredibly energetically draining to in addition to my career... But was the first time I think I experienced like success in my personal or dating life. Ultimately super rewarding but not where I expected to find results
• Actually found someone I really like but my junk is super weird about it because I've been completely by myself since forever and I think my previous long exposure to SSRIs may have messed things up kinda permanently.

tl;dr: Anyways it's been... bad. That was a lot about me. Feel free to not make this about my specific experience.
I wanted to open the floor to hear other gifted gay experiences. Just because, like, the book " the velvet rage" kinda makes me mad. That wasn't the experience I got to have and I think others are in the same boat. I think others are going to be able to put this into words better than I can.

901690531318

The idea is that these would be the effects of either a 10 (High) or a 1 (Low) in any given SPECIAL stat. This would probably only work if the base stat can’t be changed (like in FO4), but effects of items/perks are considered additions to the base value.
These are mostly just ideas for fun, as I’m sure they would be hard to integrate in a game or even game-breaking.
S:

• High: break through light doors, floors, and walls (including abandoned houses) with melee/unarmed, can lift large corpses/objects with ease
  
• Low: cannot lift medium objects, cannot block, all incoming melee attacks cripple, stagger, or knock prone
  

P:

• High: detect all lies in dialogue, lockpicking automatically succeeds, additional caps and rare materials in containers, VATS always 100% if target can be detected
  
• Low: Increased frequency of ambushes, traps completely invisible, unable to react or respond to lies, no proximity alert in sneak nor damage direction alerts in combat, VATS chance never above 20%
  

E:

• High: Infinite sprint; extremely low AP drain from activity; immune to disease, radiation, and addiction
  
• Low: Cannot sprint, extremely fast AP drain from activities, addiction immediately kills, disease kills in 24 hours, background radiation constantly ticks
  

C:

• High: pass all speech checks, merchants give free gifts, faction enemies parlay before battle (and possibly surrender), never offend companions
  
• Low: fail all speech checks, merchants will only trade once then refuse to trade further, all companions leave if anything offends them, all factions hate player
  

I:

• High: Pacify and command robots at will, hacking automatically succeeds, can disable/sabotage power armor, half material usage and no limits on crafting/constructing, stimpaks instantly and completely heal all wounds/conditions
  
• Low: hacking automatically fails, can’t use power armor nor energy weapons, can’t craft nor construct, all letters/words/numbers jumbled and distorted, can’t heal crippled limbs unless a doctor does so
  

A:

• High: undetectable while sneaking in dark/dim light, insta-kill melee while sneaking, no AP cost in VATS, automatically succeed pickpockets
  
• Low: sneaking fails immediately, pickpocketing fails immediately, can’t use VATS, chance to stumble randomly while sprinting, 1% hip-firing accuracy
  

L:

• High: random events and encounters are always positive, enemies will sometimes die of natural causes in combat, gambling always succeeds, fetch quest items sometimes appear in player’s inventory
  
• Low: Factions often confuse you with their enemies, random encounters and events are always negative, radiant quests often fail randomly, gambling always fails, legendary enemies more common in early game and less common in late game
  

-Jack
Every kid growing up in Gympie in the early 90- 2000s knew about the Love Tunnel.
The love tunnel was located over the hill from the skatepark on the Riverbank. It was a massive storm water drain filled with spray paint and lore unbound throughout the generations; the glowing dick, whose name is the furthest in, the people who live inside, the bull shark that lived under the bridge just outside, all that fun stuff.
It collapsed in the late 2000’s in a flood and was eventually rebuilt, but it was all fancy, modern, safe and not the same. Back in the day it had decades of graffiti, crumbling cement, jagged metal pole framing bent and jutting out from the sides. You know, real character.
I remember when I was just a kid at the skatepark and I spotted a bunch of other kids at the metal grating of a drain. I joined them and gazed down a few metres to some older teenagers, they had trekked through this “love tunnel” under the massive hill all this way. Badass I thought. LEGENDARY.
I talked about it at school, about this mysterious “love tunnel”. It was in view from the road when I crossed the bridge everyday on my daily commutes from the backseat of mums car.
I would gaze down at the weir and see the top of the love tunnel, sliightly hidden from view by a hill. It fascinated me.
I learned all these mysterious tales; this person slept with this person there, someone took a dump at the entrance and some other girl stood in it and now she had a nickname, someone found needles, another found a homeless woman and she screamed at them. I was pumped for the next weekend. I was going to go see it for myself.
I saw too much.
Early Saturday morning I was riding my push bike through town and toward destination adventure! I started out at the skatepark, met up with a few of the regulars, a mix of 5-19y/o everyone on the half pipes and ramps had a code of comrady that I've never found in a public place anywhere else and you always had someone to hang with.
My usual crew slowly arrived through the morning, a bunch of other 10/11 year old misfits like myself and we headed on our first place on our journey, Hungry Jacks. Now we never technically stole, we found a loophole…
One or two would order a stunner meal, then we'd take privilege of the free refills and fill up the empty plastic 4L juice jugs that we all had prepped in our backpacks. Coke and red Fanta for days.
So we got our supplies and headed behind HJ, past the volleyball courts and headed down a bush track down to the river.
We walked along the banks to loop back down to where the bridge was, we passed a few teenagers fishing and a couple other groups of kids swinging from rope swings into the water or huddled in groups smoking things they shouldn't.
We eventually arrived at the weir and the stormwater drain that I had been so intrigued by. The Love Tunnel.
Climbing up the hill and seeing it up close when you were just a tiny human. It was like staring into the dark abyss of hell.
There was a small stream of water flowing out of the big grey cylinder and it was covered in multicolored quotes and crude pictures that was very eye opening at the time.
Our voices echoed as one by one we climbed up the grassy, eroding clay edging that was the makeshift path into the mouth that probably changed each time it rained. Each of us had pulled out clumps of grass that we thought were handholds. If you fell, you fell down an embankment of slippery jagged rocks poking out from the fast flowing river.
So were inside and began to walk a couple of metres in then around us the light abruptly disappeared into complete darkness. And I remember the way the sounds traveled you could feel it through your chest it was mesmerizing.
I remember bravely stepping into the darkness and taking five or six steps in. That thick darkness was something else, I ran myself back to that entrance and light, heart pounding from the adrenaline.
This turned into a game of who could go in the furthest. This stopped when one of the boys screamed out from the darkness in pain.
He was back in the light teary eyed a few moments later wet on one side and feigning a laugh. He'd slipped down and cut open his knee, it was hilarious. We teased him saying he was going to get gangrene and leprosy and a myriad of other ailments we had no idea actually was.
We decided to bail, we forgot torches, we didn't plan that part out too well, and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon being little menaces.
We met the next day with a game plan, we had an array of various sized torches, from small ones that didn't do anything, one of those giant rectangle ones that was our main light source, a couple of handheld ones, one which flickered and the other stopped working before we even got into the tunnel.
We got in safely and tested out our torches and began walking into the unknown. It was pretty much the same as before, but there were strange things, old makeshift bongs, shopping bags, random shoes, a shopping trolley, a mattress that was all moldy and rotted. I still to this day do not understand how people managed to get that shit in there.
We passed a section where someone had thrown a can of red paint all over the walls, the amount of those ‘S’ symbols was more terrifying.
We saw light up ahead, we were passing our first grate. It was kind of daunting looking up towards it. Even getting on each other's shoulders we couldn't reach. There was an array of broken beer bottles and glass was everywhere, under the grate was a dead snake amongst some debris.
We had a debate whether to go further, we ended up going on at least until the next grate, we came to a fork, one seemed like a smaller offshoot so we stuck to the bigger side.
There were more offshoots and we came to a part where the big pipes split off into three under another grate. We gazed up hoping to get an identifier of our location, but all we could see was blue. We called out to see if we could get anyone's attention.
“Cooooweeee” we shouted in unison, the sound echoing in all directions.
We were laughing and having a grand time until something shouted back, something that still shakes me to my core to this day.
Some yobbo crackhead chick in her fifties with this ratty pink tank top that was all stretched half showing her saggy titties. “What the fuck you think you little cunts doing down here.” This chick screeched at us through her few teeth or something along the lines of that. She just exploded at us with a barrage of threats.
We were shocked silenced moving together to make one mass.
One of the boys screamed when a skinny guy emerged from the darkness. He was covered in tattoos with scraggly hair and a beard, he was all crazy eyed and pantless.
Someone yelled out to run and it was all the motivation we needed.
We could hear them screaming and the guy ran after us, we heard glass shattering behind us, they must have thrown a bottle. We were legging it.
We got split up in our running, I fell down, tripping over some rubbish, one mate stayed back to help me, this left us without a torch. We came across the same kid who slipped over yesterday, he had slipped down again cutting open his other knee. He wore those with badges of honor at school, but he was blubbering like a baby at this point.
He had the flickering torch and it disoriented us more than helped, as it turned on and off every time he took a step. I thought we were lost but we found the other grate, then eventually the entrance.
The others were already climbed down, we were soon by their side panting in the grass and wiping away our tears so the others couldn't see.
We ran back over to the skatepark and immediately told every kid we saw.
That was the wildest shit we had ever experienced. Sure we’d seen crazy up on the street but to have it jump out at you from the shadows in a storm water drain was next level.
By that night one of the other boys had spilled to his parents about our escapades and a couple of other mums got phone calls, three got in trouble, two of us didn't, including me.
I never stepped foot back in that tunnel, I swam at the weir more times than I could count afterwards though and never encountered anyone else too sketchy.
I think only a year or two later I saw on the news people dying in storm water drains somewhere else in Aus, we never realized how dangerous they could be back then. Lol.
Every party or get together afterwards it was a crowd favorite to bring up. It was a good conversation starter and joined the tales amongst my friends of the weird shit that happens in ‘Helltown’.
Growing up and looking back they were probably just homeless drug addicts freaked out from a bunch of children's voices yelling out coooweee from the underground where they thought they were alone. That would have scared the shit outta me if I was them.
Good times.
.VJ
Tl:Dr kids go into storm water drain and find creepy couple who scream at them.

It's my birthday and I have a 10% off for an item that I've desired since last year. I'm so tempted to go for it on afterpay, but part of me feels really sick when thinking about it too, because I'm meant to be saving.
The facts:
-Have wanted this item for a year. It very rarely goes on sale.
-The place that has the 10% off is cheapest and then it's 10% off on top of that.
-It's my birthday and my husband already forgot mother's day last sunday, and had nothing planned for my birthday either (no outing, gift or cake). I figured I'd spoil myself instead.
-It's $500. Ouch.
-I have smashed my savings goal since fighting the addiction, and will meet my next savings goal next week. However if I purchase this, it will push back the savings goal after next week's one.
-I have reduced my purchases already by 80% and deleted Amazon etc.
-I will have to unexpectedly buy a couple of Christmas presents now rather than in november (they're retiring soon), which will put a dent in my next savings goal.
-I can use afterpay but by next week I'll have eliminated it entirely. It will be sitting at 0! Do I really want to start it up again? It was so good thinking ahead that I'd be free of afterpay payments!
-I really should not be spending and instead of seeing all of this as a sign to buy the item, I should see this as a challenge from the universe to test my endurance.
I think what I'm trying to say is I've been a good girl, so maybe I can justify getting a reward, but maybe I should also let go and not feel the need to reward myself.
Help! Advice greatly needed.

To live in the Undead Burg is a daily test of one’s wit and their will. The brutish and dull fall to the cunning, and the weak intellectual tears their own mind asunder. For those who escape the Asylum, it is sometimes enough to make one consider voyaging back to their cell.
After all, only a few are Chosen.
In the lower levels of the Undead Burg, a cloak of rat skin fluttered behind a walking corpse as they hurriedly turned the corner of a short length of stone stairs, slamming the shield of a hollow soldier against the ground just as the claws and fangs of the first hound rose to meet it. In truth he lacked the strength to properly defend himself with the thing, to raise it with only one arm and withstand a blow with the same, but it didn’t matter here. The lower corner of the shield lay braced against the bottommost of a length of stone steps. This, with his shoulder pressed against the shield’s top, made progress against him nearly impossible for a foe so light as this.
If idiocy was to lose one’s common sense, then it couldn’t account for the stupidity of an undead hound. The corpse raised a spear over the shield and swung it downward in a pathetic arc, the wood slapping against the metal with hardly a noise to report. Seeing the motion, the dog leapt sideways out of some horribly trained reflex, and in this manner crashed into large pile of eternally burning corpses. It yelped as the heat caught it, spasmed as it searched for purchase amidst the mass of charred bones and melted flesh, and promptly died. The commotion brought with it the sound of distant footsteps, and soon another beast had run headlong into the shield. This one took two similar “attacks” of the spear to repeat its fellow’s mistake, and the one after it four.
To think he had once been terrified of these things, and discovered his tactic in panic.
Beside the steps was a well, and (after a moment to ensure no further dogs were coming), it was this against which the corpse laid his heavy shield. The next test between him and his goal would require agility, something ill-afforded with such heavy hardware. For this, he turned his attention to the well’s crank, and set thereafter to turning it. From the depths was raised a target shield tied in place of a bucket, and upon it a collection of bones, a severed hand, a ring, and a candlestick. The corpse laid the miscellaneous treasures aside, untying the shield and equipping it to his left arm.
The first two thieves were marked by buckets… or rather, the buckets were set in place to tell the thieves which doors were to be hid behind. As travelers came and went, the buckets would roll down the hill as they were knocked aside or blown by the wind or carried around by the dogs, and thus the thieves’ stations would move. When it was determined one had rolled too far down the decline of the alleyway, an annoyed thief would inevitably carry it to a more desired station, pretend it had always been there, and hide themselves behind the newly marked door. It was possible some band of thieves set this tradition in place long ago and retained the habit after they’d eventually gone hollow, but proving this thought today would be nearly beyond impossible. The reasoning didn’t matter to the corpse, of course, but the effect he used to his advantage.
The tops of the doors he adorned with knives from the Lady of Moss- blades up, such that the forceful opening of the door would spin the knives just right to sink their poisonous bile into the victims below. What additional wastes and acids the corpse had applied need not be mentioned by name, only that they shared their patron creature with the leather cloak on his back. With his work done, he now walked the side of the alley as any clueless traveler would have, and awaited the springing of the trap.
As always, the third and lowermost thief signaled the attack by kicking open their door. The two now behind the corpse followed, and shortly thereafter issued their raspy exhales of pain amidst the clatter of falling steel. The corpse charged. The leader hurriedly reached for their throwing knives but was swiftly force-fed the edge of the corpse’s shield, thusly to be brought to the ground. Here was the corpse’s blade drawn, its cracked and jagged tip turned down towards its latest prey.
When skinning rats, it is important that one carries a sharp blade. This both to pierce the thick hide, and to avoid unnecessary damage to the intestines, stomach, and other usable bits lying beneath. Replacing the rat with a hollow, the corpse preferred the tip of a broken straight sword to the edge of his usual dagger. The motions made indeed bore some crude similarity to his work when harvesting leather, but the abandon of care became only more evident with each forceful cut and flailingly resisted gouge. In the end, what remained could hardly be discerned from a spot of muck on the road, a hollow-faced madman above it.
Further down, beyond a second set of stone steps, was another favorite spot of ambush for the thieves. The mutts at the end of the alley had long since devoured whatever scraps had been used to position them, and so readily charged forth at the beckoning call of the corpse. They found at his feet the now separated legs of the corpse’s most recent kill, adorned in many fresh gouges and oozing with a pungent liquid. The source of this meal mattered not to them, and so they eagerly set to work engorging themselves on the new flesh. So single-minded were they, intent on ridding themselves of the insatiable undead hunger that plagued them, that neither one slowed as a white foam began to pour from their mouths. Their stomachs first bulged, then split apart and spilt what little they had for content as the acid worked its way through. Their legs gave way from beneath them, first the hind, then the front, and yet still they desperately swallowed more of the decaying flesh and embedded stomach-skin pouches that rapidly digested them in return. When at last the pair had at last lost such strength as to no longer reach the meals inches away from their first gasping, then whining maws, the corpse delivered their mercy. A swift kick, and what little remained of their necks gave freedom to their lifeless skulls. The thieves, meanwhile, bore no challenge the corpse had not already faced. Knives over the first few doors, the greeting of jaw and shield, the pillaging of another victim. Nothing unusual, and nothing of note.
With the capra demon gone, some “chosen” adventurer having long since vanquished it from realm, little now stood between the corpse and… her… save only one thing. The corpse took the last flight of stairs three at a time, ricocheting off the wall on the outside of its only turn and bounding towards his target.
There she was, out in the open as always. The corpse sprinted down the stairs and, after passing a blind corner, set his left foot forward and crouched to halt his considerable momentum. The ambusher behind him was easily parried as he brought his shield up and behind him, cracking something in their forearm or perhaps their wrist. Not bothering to waste time, the corpse’s broken blade was brought upwards through the ambusher’s jaw until it snapped the bit bone between their eyes. This done, the corpse wrenched his weapon up and sideways with a hollow “pop” as the neck gave leave of its skull. The body collapsed to the side, its head twisting unnaturally upwards and backwards as it freed itself of the blade. The corpse, unbothered, bore no interest in holding either aloft. Now he turned, inspected the last of the thieves, and after a moment returned his blade to its holder.
“You are Patient.”
This first time he’d uttered the phrase, the last word was merely an attribute. ‘Twas a description of the one hollow that could be shot with any arrow, afflicted with any pain, and would yet remain loyally in her position. To be fair, it wasn’t for great gift a choice, as the position of “live bait” was reserved only for whichever of the thieves had been deemed least desirable by the rest. What caused this, and whatever penalties lay for abandoning of the post, were matters the corpse could only assume. The important part was that it was her, the thief who had become “Patient” by name. At their first encounter the corpse had considered dispatching her like the rest, but had hesitated in piercing her skin. He still bore the scar about his neck that she had given him for his idleness, and she still wore the rat skin “grieves” he’d forcefully tied to her for a marker. As time passed, the two gradually traded more scars and more black fur hide between them- the corpse receiving the former, Patient gaining the latter. He had stripped her and tied a pelt about her chest which lay now beneath her leather armor, he’d fashioned a double-thick leather stock to protect her neck, and though he tied gloves to her at a point she’d taken great effort in cutting them off. All this he had done across many visits, through much pain, and at expense of his best materials. Todays gift had by far been the hardest to craft- a thrice layered leather helm affixed on one side with a jawbone to replace what he’d broken so long ago.
His approach was slow, and well-rehearsed. At about ten paces, Patient’s patience finally broke as she ran for him. Today she chose to hesitate upon reaching him, though he'd learned this was by chance of random choice than any form of compassion. The corpse waited for the attack, not daring to kick another outcast as he had once been in life. She tried first her more viscous pattern, a pair of vigorous strikes that slid across the corpse’s target shield rather than bouncing away. She completed the maneuver and immediately prepared for a more powerful, slamming attack, granting the corpse the opportunity he had been seeking.
As she brought her blade down, the corpse deftly batted her strong hand away and gripped her shield with his open hand. Having no further need for his own shield, he cast it now away and spun the patient thief ‘round. She made as if to leap upward and over the corpse, but the maneuver was one he’d long since learned to counter. He stepped back, spinning himself so as to bring her sideways and around and down into a prone position with his right elbow along her back and his left hand pinning her knife arm down.
His next task, before gifts could be given, was to ensure he received no further scars in return. Placing his knee at her back to free one of his hands, he drew from beneath his cloak a coil of red twine fashioned from the same rats he’d skinned for his gift… some of the same, at least. With great effort, the twine was managed around the thief until she could no longer terribly well resist, and her hood was pulled back from her head.
Seeing the sunken red skin, the glowing eyes, the bare teeth, it reminded the corpse of life in the Pit of Outcasts. It was there he’d met the kindest of the living, the most desperate of the poor, and occasionally even a soul or two willing to speak or come close to him. ‘Twas a place for the diseased, the undead, and those criminals deemed too vile to disgrace the hangman’s noose with their neck. It was there he’d learned to knit and to sew, skills gifted to him from an undead woman not terribly discernable from the one before him now. The main difference, at least for now, was the slack jaw broken in uncountable pieces during their first encounter.
Casting the memories aside, the corpse set to his work. The leather about the thief’s neck stilled her head a little, but precisely cutting the skin beneath her jaw to remove the old bone was still a difficult task. The end result was unsightly, and it involved more than a few excessive cuts from the patient’s constant struggling, but it was enough to work with. Removing the old bone took a great deal of time thanks to the many fragments hidden in odd bits and pockets of flesh, but sliding the new one into place and wrapping it in the old muscle proved as easily said as done. The most tiring part was retying the cuts back closed, as the thief regained and continually demonstrated a greater ability to bite and snap as the corpse made more and more progress. The last of these gaps closed, the corpse finally wrapped the rest of the leather helmet about the thief’s skull and tied the loose end to the other side of her new jaw with more twine. It wasn’t his best work, but it was the best he’d done on something still kicking around.
Patient’s hood was returned to its proper position, and the corpse took hold of a length of twine connected to a slipknot in the middle of her back. Midway up the last stretch of stairs he’d come down, the twine was pulled and the knot it held gave way, restoring the thief her freedom. Knowing better than to stick around, the corpse fled to the top of the stairs, standing on the bridge overlooking her station just beyond where she would pursue. He watched as she freed herself of the last of the twine, as she looked to him, and as she eventually returned to her post. He said then the same thing he always said to her, though still he knew not if she recognized it.
“I am Aldin Paltry, the Leper of Hangknell. I will return again.”
He watched a moment more, but was paid not a glance in return. Back through the alley he went, bound for the dragon’s bridge.

After sixty-seven sessions of Curse of Strahd (read all about it here), it was time for a change. So into the wild we went...
My group is nearing the end of Hither, and along the way I've written summaries of each session ("What Just Happened?"), along with interesting/funny quotes from PCs/NPCs ("Certain Things Were Said"), and a list of new characters introduced that session ("Dramatis Personae").
My intention is to write the summaries for each of the five parts of the campaign in a different format. For the Witchlight Carnival, each summary was presented in verse (my own, no machine learning shortcuts!), using the the metre and rhyming structure of various Lewis Carrol poems.
I'd like to share my summaries/poems with you all here, for posterity, and in the hope you'll find them entertaining.
For reference, the players are:

• Holafina (a harengon paladin who has lost three inches of height)
• Skerrek (a kobold druid who has lost the ability to lie)
• Arix (an owlin monk who has lost all sense of direction and is always hungry)
• Jexim (a brash fairy who has lost his diary)
• Sylenos (a beatnik, slacker satyr employed by the Carnival)

NOTE: Lewis Carroll was known to hide secret messages in his poems. I've done the same, revealing the campaign's big twist in one of the poems below. None of my players have picked up on it.

Part I: Welcome to the Witchlight

What Just Happened? (in the style of Jabberwocky)
’Twas twilight when the carnival Did open wide two golden gates, And those with tickets did arrive, Seeking things they had misplaced.
One harengon of curious size, A kobold with a slithy gait, An owlet who possessed two eyes As wide as Annam’s dinner plates.
Yet are we three or are we four? Let’s add vibrations rarefied: A Witchlight hand here to ensure That every guest is Satyrs-fied!
Enter now and taste the sounds, Feel these colours, smell those sights! Kaleidoscopic fun abounds This synaesthesiac’s delight!
Yet where’s the drama? Where’s the tension? Certainly we’ve had a switch (At least in here there is no mention Of that cad von Zarovich).
Instead let’s race a giant snail, Eat candied mushrooms by the pound, Or listen to a gnome assail The tightness of your mother’s gown.
Yet hark! A misadventure glum! Those not heroes please give berth! The best laid plans of love undone By Tasha’s wild unruly mirth
These mirrored halls! This desperate task, To find a luckless paramour A sweet-toothed lass with porcine mask That you could swear you’ve seen before…
’Twas twilight when the carnival Did open wide two golden gates And those with tickets did arrive, Now guided by the wiles of fate.
Dramatis Personae
Arix Specklefoot, a sweet-toothed owlin Holafina, a curiously short harengon Skerrek Tirael, a slithy kobold Sylenos, a cosmic satyr Nicholas Midnight, elderly goblin ticketmaster at the Witchlight Carnival Candlefoot, a mime and not by choice Rubin Sugarwood, a lovesick halfling Ween Sundapple, his laugh-sick paramour Glorange Turple, a poetry gnome
Certain Things Were Said
“I am worried about your ability to sense vibrations that I cannot.” - Skerrek Tirael
“Tymore, goddess of good fortune! Look well upon Shellymoo this day!” - Holafina
“Hate to say it, man, but that gnome really insulted your mother.” - Sylenos
“Snacks?” - Arix Specklefoot

Part II: Lost and Found

What Just Happened? (In the style of The Walrus and the Carpenter )
"The time has come," the Satyr said, "To talk of many things: Of poems—and props—and Jeremy Plum— Of crowns and pixie kings— And why things here keep getting lost— And what this pig-girl means."
"But wait a bit," the Owlin cried, "Before our minds do meet, For some of us are pretty spooked, And I would like a treat!" "No hurry!" said the Satyr, And kicked up cloven feet.
The Owlin and the Kobold Were walking close at hand, They smiled like anything to see The gates of Pixie Land. "If we could only stay a while,” They said, "it would be grand!"
The Satyr sighed so sulkily, Because he thought that Plum Had got no business to be there When all was said and done. (“It's rude of him," the Kobold said, "To try and spoil our fun!")
"Oi, Satyr," said the pixie king, "You've had a pleasant run! Should you be getting back to work?” But answer came there none And this was scarcely odd, because He had real beef with Plum.
Now Arix made a hamster friend Who offered up some clues. The others tried the riding-pug: A pleasant thing to do! (“The pug is fine," the Rabbit said, "But he’s no Shellymoo.”)
"How nice of you to come!” said Plum, "You all are oh-so kind!" Puddlemud said nothing as His teeth began to grind. The Owlin and the Kobold cheered: “That was our FAVORITE ride!”
“A wooden crown," fair Jexim said, Is what we need to come Our way along with golden paint For some un-princely sum.” The others stared, confused, and said: “Now where did YOU come from?”
‘Twas then the party dared approach The famous Mystery Mine Where psychedelic spectacles Broke the Satyr’s mind. (“I really wish,” Zephixo sighed, “You wouldn’t ride while high”).
Next Dirla pulled all kind of things Out of his wagon/portal: Bottles, bunnies, candlesticks, A shining blade of vorpal (Incidentally, there’s a word That kind of rhymes with purple).
“If you put your mind to it And searched for long enough, Do you suppose," the party said, "That you could find our stuff?" "I doubt it," said dear Dirlagraun, And gave a bitter huff.
Then he gave the Harengon The greatest gift by far: A copy of “Gnome On The Run” And bid them au revoir (Morgie would have laughed at that While struggling with slash “R”).
“I do believe,” the Satyr said, “That something is not right, And think we ought to pay a call To Messers Witch and Light.” “I think we ought,” the Owlin said “To first stop for a bite.”
But in their way old Thaco stood, A clown grown grim and surly: “Rabbit! Owlin! Pixie! Skink! You aren’t allowed to be-“ The Fairy interrupted him: “Wait, WHAT did you call me?”
Poor Thaco cried: “Things move too fast! And have since my debut In R-1: To the Aid of Falx From Nineteen Eighty Two! And if you’d seen what I have seen Then you’d smoke bubbles, too!”
Finally he stepped aside, At last the way was clear. The Satyr ambled stealthily With open eyes and ears And pressed them to a wagon large To see what he could hear.
"The time has come," Witch and Light said, "To talk of things galore Of prizes—plans—and kenku pests— and ever so much more— But first we’d better ask inside Those spying at our door!”
Dramatis Personae
Jexim, a puzzled, puzzling fairy Jeremy Plum, operator of the Pixie Kingdom and bestower of silly names Biscuit, a talkative hamster Pinecone, a riding-pug Zephixo, dwarven inventor and mastermind behind the Mystery Mine Ernest Wilde, middle-aged calliope master currently inhabiting the body of his pet monkey Marigold, his button-collecting goblin assistant Dirlagraun, a kindly but inefficient displacer beast, minder of lost children and property Thaco, a bubble-smoking clown who is long past his prime
Certain Things Were Said
"Worried I was, with talk of missing supper." - Arix Specklefoot
"Could you not just purchase a new pair?" - Skerrek Tirael "Not like this, man." - Sylenos
"If you'd see the things I've seen, you'd smoke a bubble pipe, too." - Thaco
"Is this it?" - Dirlagraun "NO." - Everyone

Part III: On the Trail of the Kenku

What Just Happened? (In the style of The Hunting of the Snark)
"Where the heck is our stuff? We just want to know This Harengon ain't getting bigger, Arix has no idea of where to go And lies send poor Skerrek a-quiver!"
"Would you get back to work?" Mister Light cried, Twirling his cane with a smile, "Otherwise find where this kenku pest hides; She's cramping this carnival's style!"
"Well, that was a bust," said our heroes, conferring, "Anyone got a suggestion? If we need to pull strings to get back our things Then there are some folk we should question."
"Time's an illusion, free will a delusion!" Sylenos' mentor decreed, "Get a contusion battling occlusions, Or relax and have some of this…wait, what was I saying?"
Sylenos proclaimed: "A genius flawed!" "A man/dragon ahead of his time." Skerrek looked at his claws; Holafina at paws, And the other two just rolled their eyes
"A centuar I'm not! I just made a bad trade The "Cloppinton's" just serendipitous, Now lend me your aid and you'll maybe persuade These horsies to drop some significance."
Then they took to the skies on a dragonfly ride (Holafina and Skerrek abreast), When you're this high there's just nowhere to hide (And to which Sylenos attests)
Now Skerrek honed on a runaway gnome Who was fleeing the carnage with glee, Holafina struck home and that's it for this poem For the gnome was the kenku, you see.
Dramatis Personae
Mister Witch, a matter-of-fact elf, devoid of pretense Mister Light, a flamboyant elf, luminous and coy Burly, a philosophical, pumpkin-helmeted bugbear Mandragon, a seeker of truth (and not much else) Diana Cloppington, a centaur who is apparently not, operator of the Carousel Northwind, a very forthcoming treant, operator of the Dragonfly Rides
Certain Things Were Said
"There’s something weird going on. For some reason everyone thinks I don’t do anything around the carnival." - Sylenos
"It's true, Miss Cloppinton! We've ALL lost things." - Arix Specklefoot
"Wait, when did we have biscuits?" - Jexim

Part IV: Through the Looking Glass

What Just Happened? (In the style of A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky)
Now hear the Kenku’s strange reply (As Arix struggles to apply Triage to these pixie guys)
Asking questions, getting nought Set her on a different course: High sabotage without remorse!
And what has got her so irate Is what’s she trying to intimate: Zybilna has been quiet of late!
Ignore the rest, and let’s take flight To confront dear Witch and Light (Surprisingly, they’re quite contrite)
To keep the carnival in motion A tapestry of lies was woven: A deal with the Hourglass Coven!
Who take from those who can’t afford Entrance through the Witchlight’s doors Miscellanea adored
So THAT’s who taken all your junk! Time to find these Hourglass punks! Which way to this Feywild dump?
But first we’ll make a brief aside So Candlefoot can vocalise His mermaid love (now legalised)
Now the pair can tie the knot And while we’re passing time why not Ride the fabled Bubble Pot?
Yet ere you all are translocated (Everybody’s breath now bated) Arix must be coronated!
The time of truth has come at last Hesitation as you pass Though the hallowed looking glass
Are you afraid to lose your minds? What lies ahead? What lies behind? What do you expect to find?
Will Skerrek ever fabricate? Or Holafina emulate A bunny’s median height and weight?
Shall Jexim’s memoirs find acclaim? Can Monty locate Bobbitt Fane? (…hang on, that’s a different game)
Does Arix ever find the door? And will Sylennos flee the cause To study unemployment law?
Dramatis Personae
Kettlesteam, a mischievous patron of Zybilna Paleesha, a mellifluous mermaid, now reunited with Candlefoot
Certain Things Were Said
“Sylenos, perhaps in eight years you can come back and find your lost employment.” - Skerrek
“Ask me where the exit is.” - Arix Specklefoot “Where is the exit?” - Mister Light “I don’t know.” - Arix

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TW: Alcoholism, drug addiction, violence, suicidal ideation, sex abuse
This is going to be a LLLLLOOONNNNGGGGG one. This story goes back quite a way, but yesterday was the tenth anniversary of the ending to this story and I'm feeling it, still got some guilt about everything that happened, wondering what I could have done differently and I just want to vent it out and hope to get some closure from it.
This story started in 2010.
Characters in this story (names are fake, duh!):

• Me, Guy, 32M at the time, 45 now.
• My BFF Stephanie, 33F at the time.
• Stephen, 40M at the time, Stephanie's boyfriend.
• Maryse, 27F at the time.

Background and intro
I had known Stephanie for many years and we had the kind of friendship that made her BFs and my GFs uncomfortable to put it lightly. We had never crossed that boundary and I wouldn't consider us in the friendzone, we were just friend, but the kind of friend where she would sit on my lap with her arms around my neck or her head on my shoulder.
At the start of 2010, Stephanie met her then boyfriend, Stephen. He tolerated me and my friendship with Stephanie because I also had a gf back then. She liked Stephanie, wasn't at all jealous of my friendship with her, so he didn't deem me too suspicious. Then my gf and I broke up for reasons unimportant and all hell broke loose for Stephen. He became convinced that I would try and steal Stephanie from him. He insisted that Stephanie introduce me to her female friends or female friends of his. Thus began what I called the year of the 50 blind dates. It was probably closer to 20, but still I like saying the year of 50 blind dates. Most of them were unremarkable and never went beyond the first date. There are some fun stories in there if anyone wants to hear them eventually!
In July of that year, I had to switch gears because I had to focus up and study for a professional exam for a certification important to my career. This exam required close to 600-800 hours of study over a 3-4 month period. So I hunkered down, told Stephanie to stop the blind dates for now because I had to focus on that. She respected my wishes and, other a text here or there, we went low contact for the last two months before the exam.
Except for one fateful night in September. Her birthday was in September and she always threw these big bashes at her house. She would throw a big pool party that started around noon and would go on to the wee hours of the morning. I knew she would harass me to go to her party, so I made some quick math and figured I would lose more energy and time trying to dodge her calls, texts and most likely visits at my place than by just going to the party itself. So when she called me to ask, I just said: "Okay I'll go to your damn party, now git." I texted her I would get there in the evening probably around 8. She texted back "Great, can't wait. Now study, bitch!"
So I ultimately get there around 8PM. Basically everybody is already drunk off their gourd. Stephanie sees me, squeals in excitement and runs to me in her bikini and just jumps in the air and slams into me, wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist and gives me a big hug. I hug her back and just keep walking back to the pool where she had started, carrying her with me. I just duck my head around hers and say hi to Stephen, who just glares at me.
She drops back down and I give her her gift. We chat for a few seconds and says "There's beer in the fridge and food in the dining room." I told her I'd be right back.
I go inside and grab a beer from the fridge. I head to the dining room and the table is against the wall with a buffet of sandwiches, tomato pizza, salads, etc. I grab a plate and start putting food on it. I was focused on the task because I was starving. I barely noticed, sitting at the end of the table one of the most stunning woman I have ever seen. I just see her in my peripheral vision and I do a quick double take, quick glance at her and back to the food. I do that a second time. And finally a third time. At that point she is just straight up staring at me and I can't help but chuckle and whisper under my breath "Subtle Guy, sub-tle".
Thankfully she starts laughing too, saving me some embarassment. I look at her and greet her. She says "Hi, I'm Maryse and I'm guessing you're Guy?" I just nod and we start talking. At that point, I just thought I have no shot with her, she's so far out of my league that I'm just gonna talk to her until she sees one of the "models" hanging out by the pool and ditches me for him.
So I'm not feeling like I'm playing for anything, so I'm just myself and not nervous, just talking to her as I would any friend. We chat and she laughs at all my jokes, she gets all my cultural references. She never gets up or ditches me. The plate of food I had made and the beer I had gotten are sitting on the table next to me untouched, I was too busy with the convo to think about food or beer anymore.
After what felt like only 20-30 minutes, Stephanie comes in and tells me, fake grumpy: "So that's where you disappeared to. I invite my best friend to a party and he spends the whole night talking to someone else." I laugh and go: "What do you mean the whole night? I haven't been here that long." She says "Dude, it's 2AM. You've been here for 6 hours..." My jaw dropped and I just said: "Wow, time flies when you're having fun." Maryse chimes in, with a big smile: "It sure does!" That made me happy as you can imagine.
Now I was a little stuck because where Stephanie lived, there's no night service for the bus and the subway had been closed for an hour or so. I figured I would cab it. So I turn to Maryse and tell her: "It was absolutely lovely to meet you and I enjoyed our conversation very much." She says that she did too. I continued with "At the moment, my schedule is incredibly hectic. I'm basically working full-time, studying full-time and sleeping part-time. So I don't have a lot of free time, but if she was interested, whatever little free time I had, I would love to call her or text her to keep on getting to know her."
I see Stephanie in the backgroudnd, looking like a proud mama at how smooth that came out, knowing I was always anything but smooth with women, as proven by the string of blind dates! Maryse has a big smile and we exchange numbers. I go to Stephanie to wish her a happy birthday again. While I'm talking to her, my phone buzzes with a text from Maryse: "Just checking!"
I asked Stephanie "What's the best cab company to call in this area?" Maryse chimes in: "Where do you live?" I tell her where I lived and she goes "It's on the way to where I live, I can give you a ride if you want." Stephanie raised an eyebrow in surprise. I learned later, she did it because it absolutely was not on the way to her place, like, at all. I say that I would love that as it would give us a chance to keep talking.
We get in her car, driving to my place. We talk, she asks me what I'm studying as I hadn't mentioned it earlier. I tell her all about the boring maths I had to study. Much too quickly, we get to my place. She parks in front of my building and we keep talking. At some point, I tell her: "Normally, this is where I would try to "trick" you into coming up to my place..." She interrupts me: "You wouldn't need to trick me. I'm willing and able!"
I tell her that "As tempting as that sounds, I know who I am and I know that if you come up and things proceed to where they're going, I'm not going to be able to study for the rest of the month. I have a kind of obsessive mind and when I find someone or something I like, I can push everything else to the side in favor of that. So to make sure I can still focus on my studying, I have to go up by myself."
She looks at me, a little disappointed but then says, half-jokingly: "We don't have to go up, there's a backseat right there!" We laugh and I give her a kiss and wish her a good night. I managed to stay strong and go back to my condo. Damn it, why did I have to stay strong!!!
My exam was at the beginning of november. During the month of october, we texted a bunch of times and talked on the phone. We went for coffee a couple of times and dinner once. She respected my boundaries and never pushed for more, which I appreciated but also hated at the same time, if that makes sense. The exam came and it was a monster of a Friday. I slept for basically 18 hours after the exam as the adrenalin dropped and my system crashed.
I texted her when I woke up at around 1PM. She was working at the clothing store Stephanie owned. She said "I'm off at 5PM, wanna meet me." I said: "Duh! Why do you think I'm texting? ;)" So I met her at the store downtown. I asked if she wanted to grab a drink, go for dinner, or what. She proposed going to her place and getting some take out. Stephanie who was closing the store at that moment, came up to us and said: "Hey, so what are we doing?" I said: "WE, that is Maryse and I, are going to her place and getting some takeout. Bye!" I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you that no food was ever ordered that night!
Thus followed a whirlwind month of November where any free time we had was spent together, and I wasn't going to complain!
The troubles
By the start of december, things were still going great with us. One saturday night, we were having dinner at a restaurant and I mention that this coming Friday is my office Christmas party, that it's employees only, so we wouln't see each other that night. She tells me: "Oh sure, that's fine! It'll give me a chance to go see some girlfriends I've been neglecting lately." I said "Great! BTW I also got us a reservation at [this great restaurant she had mentioned a few times] for next Saturday, so we could go there and I'll tell you all about my party and you can tell me all about her night with the girls!"
That was settled, I thought. I was wrong. On Thursday, we had spent the evening together at her place and I was about to leave to go back to my place. She tells me: "So are you coming to meet me at the store tomorrow or do I go to your place?" I reminded her: "Neither, tomorrow is my office Christmas party and we won't see each other tomorrow." She said: "Oh right, I forgot." I asked her if she had made plans with her friends like she had mentioned last saturday. She said that they were all busy tomorrow and weren't available.
She suggested "If your party is boring, maybe you could come meet me." I retorted that it wasn't going to be, knowing who was going to be there.
"Yeah but what if?"
"But it won't"
"But what IFFFFFF?" she kept insisting and I kept saying no. After what felt like 30 minutes of that (probably only 2-3 minutes in reality), I had enough and just said to end the argument: "Okay, if it's boring, I'll come. but it won't be." She said: "Cool" with a big smile on her face. I came to learn that that smile meant "Challenge accepted".
The following night, my colleague and I were pregaming in a conference room before leaving for the party proper and my phone buzzes. Maryse was wishing me a good party. I replied. She texted me again. I replied. She texted again, but I was in a conversation with a colleague so I didn't reply or even look at the phone. My phone buzzes again. Still talking, and didn't want to be rude to my colleague. Another buzz. I just kept talking. Phone buzzes differently, she was now calling because I hadn't answered her texts.
"Why aren't you replying to my texts?"
"Hey, sorry, was talking to my colleague Patrick."
"What? you don't want to talk to me?"
"I am talking to you now."
"Why didn't you reply to my texts?"
"Because it would have been rude to my colleague to pull my phone out while talking to him."
"But you're talking to me now."
"Because I thought something was wrong, maybe it was an emergency."
"I wanted to talk to you, that's all."
"Well, gotta go back to the party. Talk to you later."
She kept texting and if I didn't reply right away, she would call after two or three missed texts. After about 2 hours of this, I stopped answering the texts. When she called back, I asked her: "Aren't you supposed to be working?" which started another round of guilt-tripping of "why are you asking me this? you don't want to talk to me?" At that point I had had enough and wanted to enjoy my party. I remembered that the Blackberry (no shaming old tech!) I had had an annoying feature, but I was hoping to put it to good use at that moment.
Whenever the battery would get really low, like less than 1%, it would let out an ear-piercing BEEP for about 3 seconds, reminiding you to charge it and giving you a heart attack all at the same time. It would do that even when you were in silent mode. It had happened a few days earlier when I was with Maryse. I figured, if I press a button on the Blackberry, it would make a beep too that could be heard through the phone. So while I was talking to Maryse, I pressed my thumb on the space bar for a good 3 seconds and sputtered; "what... the .... what?" trying to put on a somewhat believable performance.
She asked what that noise was and I tell her that it was my blackberry letting me know I was low battery and it might shut off any second. I told her "Listen I'm gonna wish you a good night, I'm having a good time at my party so I'll see you tomorrow at 5PM to go spend our evening together. I hope you have a good....." and hung up mid-sentence. I promptly shut my phone off and went back to the party. I concede that I may be a bit of an AH for that move.
The party was great, I got drunk much quicker than I expected owing to the fact that I hadn't had a drink in over two months because Maryse didn't drink so I didn't either when we were together, and we were always together. At 1AM, I went home and passed out on my bed.
This is another place where I may have been an AH. I didn't turn my cell phone back on and I unplugged my home line too, because I wanted to sleep the deep sleep of the drunkard. I woke up at around 1:30 PM, not knowing it was already too late. In my mind, I was meeting Maryse at 5PM to go out on the town that night. Maryse had other ideas as you'll see.
So like I said, I woke up at 1:30PM and was sticky with alcohol sweat, so I went straight for the shower to get clean again. While in the shower, my stomach grumbled with hunger and I started daydreaming of bacon and eggs. That pushed me out of the shower right quick. I dried myself off quickly, tied the towel around my waist and went to the fridge. No bacon.... booo. Looked at the egg compartment... no eggs... booo again. Okay then, how about a cream cheese bagel. No cream cheese, damn it. Look in the pantry, no bagels.... god. I was starting to get angry. Okay, cereals then. I pick up the cereal box, that mofo was empty and I get mad: "who's the idiot who puts the empty box back in the pantry?" I remembered I live alone.
I close the fridge dejected and see the grocery list stuck on the fridge, taunting me with everything I wanted to eat for breakfast written on it. But I felt like if I went to the grocery store hungry as I Was, I'm just gonna pay 600$ and not get one single healthy thing to eat. I then remembered there's a restaurant next to the grocery store that serves breakfast until 3PM. I get excited! I get dressed quickly, grab my wallet and keys, put my boots on, my coat on, wrap my scarf, my tuque and my gloves and go to the restaurant. If you notice, I didn't mention my phone in there.
I get to the restaurant and confirm that they still have breakfast and get even more excited when she confirms it. I order the "heart attack", at least that's how I nicknamed it: 3 eggs, 3 servings of bacon, 2 sausages, and, I guess to give one peace of mind, fruit (or to be precise, one single solitary slice of orange). Now that the food is ordered and coming I figured I would check if I have any messages. I pat the pocket where my phone always is. No phone. uh-oh. I start clutching evert pocket, no luck.
I wonder if I should go back home after the meal before going to the grocery store and decide against it, it would be too long a detour. So I scarf my breakfast down, rush through the grocery store. I get home and set my bags down in front of the fridge. I go pick up my blackberry. I turn it back on. The little tape icon tells me there are messages on my voicemail, at that time there were no red dots with a number in it to tell you how many.
I connect to the voicemail while starting to put the groceries away. The little automated voice tells me "You have 25 new messages." I pull the phone away from my ear, look at it in disbelief as if saying: "are you f'ing kidding me?" So I press 1 to start playing the messages.
Remember: Maryse knew I was at a party with a dead phone, no chargers and I probably wouldn't get home until 1AM. From 6:30PM, when my phone died, to 11:34 PM, when she went to sleep she left me 9 messages. BTW I know she went to sleep at 11:34PM because she left me a message saying "it's 11:34PM and I'm going to bed. Thinking of you." The 9 messages were in the same vein. These are the salient details, but the messages were all much longer.
She woke up at 7:15 the following day, I'll let you guess how I know that tidbit of information! She left me 5 more messages like those from the day before: 7:15 woke up. 7:35 going to take a shower. 7:55 out of the shower. 8:25 getting ready to leave for work 8:50 walking out of the subway to go to the store.
She leaves me another message at 9 that was different. She sounded very excited as if she had had the best idea in the world: "Hey it's 9AM, I'm about to start my shift. I know we're only supposed to meet after my shift, but what if you came and met me for lunch so you could tell me all about your party." I just did my best Scooby-Doo "Ruh-Roh" and chuckled that I blew that, not thinking the calamity that was awaiting me.
Another couple of messages to talk logistics: "I could take my lunch at 12 or 12:30, let me know which you prefer." "I'm taking my lunch at 12:30"
A slightly worried message: "It's 11:15 and you stil have not said if you were coming or not, are you okay?"
The first bomb goes off and I knew I was in trouble then: "Where are you? We're supposed to meet for lunch and you still haven't given me any sign of life, you're not answering your home phone either, what happened?" Reminder: we were not supposed to meet for lunch, she suggested doing so a couple of hours earlier and I never agreed to anything. I guess she told her colleagues I would meet her for lunch and it was now fact and could perhaps make her look bad in front of her colleagues.
The second bomb drops: "It's almost noon now, WHERE ARE YOU? Stephanie says you're probably sleeping off your drunk, but I don't believe her. I'm sure you got yourself a slut and cheated on me. Didn't you? didn't you, you asshole." Stephanie knows me very well, but that wasn't enough for Maryse it seems.
Ensued four more messages from 12:30 to 1:15, where she starts sounding more and more drunk and accusatory, spewing more attacks like in the message above. At that point I already knew it was over, there was no coming back from that. I can understand having trust issues, but that was nuclear. I don't tolerate jealousy because of horrible experiences with a couple of jealous toxic exes.
A final message comes in, and it's a different voice, that of my best friend being more than a little angry: "Hey Guy, listen, Maryse tells me you had a Christmas party yesterday, so I'm guessing you're sleeping off your drunk, still. But call me when you get this. I put Maryse, who's f'ing drunk, in the backstore so she can dry off and "do inventory". She can't be on the sales floor obviously and I just don't feel safe sending her home in the state she's in. Call me to tell me how you want to handle this."
At that point I had finished putting away my groceries and had put my boots and my coat on and was making my way to the subway to go to the store. I call Stephanie and tell her I got the messages and I was coming. She was right, I was sleeping off my drunk and had just woke up (didn't feel the need to mention the breakfast and grocery store). I ask her if she knows what I'm gonna do when I get there. She says that she knows and understands. She knows my bad history.
When I get out of the subway, I call her again before getting to the store. I ask her how she wants me to do this. It's her store and I don't want to create drama in front of her customers. Does she want me to wait outside and she tells Maryse to meet me in the street or do I go in the store and she takes me to the backstore and I do it there? She says to come to the store.
I walk in the store and every saleswomen on the floor looks at me and gives me the biggest case of the stink-eye. They only have Maryse's side of the story, so they think I did all these horrible things. I see Stephanie in the middle of the store and I walk towards her. She shakes her head and points me towards the cash register. I look over there and see Julia, a salesperson that I've known for a couple of years and really like, who also happens to be the biggest gossip in the store. I understand what Stephanie is trying to do. She's gonna make me tell her my story in front of Julia so Julia can spread the "good news" to the other employees and rehabilitate my name possibly.
So I get to the register and say Hi to Julia. She barely acknoledges me. Steph joins me. She asks me:
"How are you?"
"I was better an hour ago, before I listened to those voicemails. I had gone to our office party last night, had a great night, got drunk off my ass, got home at around 2 and woke up around 2."
Julia asks "Maryse told us you were supposed to meet her for lunch."
"No we weren't. I have a reservation for tonight at XYZ restaurant. I was supposed to take the day to do errands, stuff around the condo and meet her here at closing time. She suggested that it could be fun if I came at lunchtime to meet her, but that was never the plan."
Julia asks again "But why didn't you answer your phone?"
"It ran out of battery last night during the party and when I got home, I was so drunk that I forgot to plug it back in. I only plugged it when I woke up at 2. That's when the messages came in."
Julia asks "She says she tried calling your home line and you didn't answer and your machine didn't kick in."
"Yeah, that one's my fault, I knew I wanted to sleep and telemarketers have a habit of calling me early saturday mornings so I didn't want to be awoken by a call for a rug cleaning service, so I unplugged it yesterday morning, knowing I would be drunk when I got home and forget and be angry if I was awakened by a telemarketer."
Julia gave me a hint of a smile, showing me she was starting to believe me. She asked me a few more questions and then she asked what I was gonna do. I told her that whatever I'll do, I would tell Maryse first.
I looked at Stephanie and said: "Can you open the back store so I can go see her?" So we went to the backstore. As we reached the door, it swung opened and out popped Maryse, looking absolutely terrifying, I actually jumped back when I saw her. Her usual perfect makeup was completely smeared, her mascara streaking down her cheeks from the crying. Her hair was disheveled. She was a mess. Apparently, she had had enough of waiting back there and was planning on leaving the store to go home and had put her coat and boots on.
When she saw me, she went into an unhinged rant about me being an asshole for cheating on her, me not being great in bed, me not treating her right, etc. I let her vent everything she had to say, I looked at Stephanie and apologized for creating such a scene in her store. I tell Maryse we should go outside and talk in private. She keeps on yelling, but when I grab her hand to lead her outside, she follows.
When we get outside, her anger had started to wane a little, or maybe just her energy. I was able to talk to her to explain everything, how I had gotten drunk, had overslept (alone) and woke up at 2PM. I reminded her that we were only supposed to meet at 5PM not for lunch. The anger was leaving her and a smile almost appeared on her face. Through all of this I was being very calm and patient with her, which she interpreted as me not being mad at her. I then said in a firmer tone: "However..." and let it hang for a second.
The beginning smile vanished. I continued: "When you accused me of cheating on you, that broke me. That triggered memories of toxic exes who would always accuse me of cheating, not trusting me when I would tell them where I was, snooping on me, stalking me. Because of those experiences, I have a zero tolerance policy for jealousy. I told her that if she was behaving like after only two months of dating, it didn't bode well for the future and I have to protect myself."
At that, the tears started again and she just turned and ran/waddled away. I told her to wait, but she didn't hear me. I turned towards the entrance of the store to see basically all the employees and customers milling around the door trying to catch the drama. I went back inside to talk to my best friend. The mood had definitely changed and no one was giving me the stink eye anymore, but I didn't really care. I was just sad that it had ended, but proud of myself for having stood up for myself.
So AITA for getting drunk and keeping my phone turned off?
There is a lot more to this story and if you want to learn what happened afterwards, then read on.
The immediate aftermath
So I went back inside the store and talked to Stephanie. I told her that I had a reserrvation for XX restaurant and if she wanted to go with Stephen, she could take it, I wasn't in the mood for a dinner. She said "I already have plans for tonight, but thanks for offering." Julia said she would go with me if I wanted, but I just said that I wasn't in the mood to go out. I just wanted to crash and eat a pizza and get into a food coma.
Stephanie said she didn't feel comfortable leaving me by myself and I should join them at her house. They were having friends over to play board games and it could at least distract me a little. I said why not. So brimming with enthusiasm, I went to play bored games. I left early as I wasn't in the mood. I was feeling a little better, but still a bit down. I thanked Stephanie for the invite and left. I got home and just passed out on the bed.
I woke up at around 7AM the next morning and I saw along the corners of the window the tell-tale signs of a snow-drift and got excited as it was the first snow of the season. I pushed the curtains aside and looked on to see a beautiful white carpet outside. It was early enough that very few cars had marred the whiteness. I was admiring it when I noticed that, against the red bricks of the building across the street, there was a pink blotch. As I focused, the blotch became human shaped and I cleared my eyes enough to realize that it was Maryse and she was raising her cell phone to her ear.
On cue, my phone rings. I pick it up. Still sounding drunk, she asks me if we can speak. I ask her to give me five minutes to get dressed and I'll meet her down there. She asks why she can't come up. I say that I'm not sure I want her in my apartment. She says that it's cold out. I say: "Good, then this will be quick."
I get dressed and meet her outside. I'm still bleary-eyed from having woken up 5 minutes ago, but I try to get my wits together. I tell her that we're going to walk to the subway. It 's a 10-minute walk normally, but with her drunkenness, it might take 15-20 minutes. That's how long she has to tell me what she wants to tell me.
She wants to apologize for accusing me of cheating on her. She says she knows I'm a great guy and... I may be the A-hole at this point too, but I start to drift off in my little bubble and start daydreaming about, if I go back to bed, would there still be some residual heat or would it be cold? I could take a hot shower and warm the bed that way. I could still hear her in the background making excuses, saying how she had been cheated on, but I wasn't really listening.
During the daydreaming I notice it got quite quiet. I look on my left and she's not there, I turn around she's a good 5-6 steps behind me looking angry and she says: "you're not listening" I just say: "when you're right, you're right." I tell her that I understand she's been hurt too in the past, and I hope she can work to resolve her issues, but I was done and I'm going back to bed. I was a bit harsh there, but I was tired and still down.
I walk past her and get maybe 10 paces past her when I hear a scream coming from her. I turn around and I see her messing with something inside her coat. She pulls out a chef's knife with like an 8-inch blade. That wakes me the fuck up. Byebye bleary eyes, hello wakefulness. better than a cup of coffee or a red bull I tell you!
So she's got the knife, she's screaming something that I can't quite understand. She gets quiet and then she charges at me with the knife. If I'm being honest I could have stayed where I was and she probably would have missed me anyways, but someone charges at me with a knife, I'm gonna nope out of there. I take a massive side step and once she gets to where I was and realizes that I'm no longer there, she turns her head towards me and says heyyyyy.
At that point, I have a moment of clarity and see what's gonna happen. She's drunk running one way and looking another, I know she's gonna trip. As I predicted, she stumbled over her feet and starts falling to the ground. I start praying to god and anybody who would listen: "Please don't let her cut herself. I don't want to have to explain this to the doctors, EMTs and nurses. I don't want her drunk ass deciding to take revenge on me by saying I did it."
Thankfully, she winds up in a sitting position on the sidewalk holding the knife up and it was clean. Thank god for small miracles. She starts crying and, other moment of clarity, I know she's gonna turn the knife on herself now. I jump towards her and I realize I was right, the knife starts moving towards her left wrist. I tackle her, grab her right wrist and twist it so she drops the knife. I pick the knife back up and put it in my pocket. She looks at me crying and says: "Why did you stop me?"
I pick her up and take her back to my building. In my building there was a couch in the lobby, so I take her there and I sit her down and plop myself next to her. I look at her and wonder out loud: "What am I gonna do with you? What can I do?"
She goes: "Just let me go, I'll be good." I tell her that's not going to happen. I realize I have three options and I give her the three options.
"So here's the choice I give you.
1- I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted murder back there and they send the police to arrest you. I don't want to do that because that could derail your life and not get you the help you need. Besides, they might not do anything anyway as it's your word against mine.
2= I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted suicide back there and that you need to be placed on a 72 hour hold. I could do that, but at the same time, again it's my word against yours, so maybe they don't believe me.
3- I'm gonna hazard a guess here. From what I've seen, you have alcohol problems. So I'm gonna guess you were in AA, had been sober for a while, I want to say 6 months, maybe less, when we met."
She confirms my guess.
"alright so option 3, I'm guessing you had a sponsor in AA." she nods "we call them up and tell them about your relapse and what happened this morning. Can they come get you and take care of you?"
She takes her phone out and picks a contact and calls. She hands me the phone. Someone answers and I explain the situation. They said they were coming right away. I give them my address, they get here 15 minutes later. Maryse had fallen asleep in the meantime, so I wake her up gently and help her to the car. Off she went.
I went back to my apartment and just crashed back to sleep.
A month later
Mid-january, my phone rings and I see Maryse's number on there. I send her to voice mail. Another call. Voicemail again. 5 minutes later, Private number calling. "Gee I wonder who that could be." Voicemail once more.
Afterwards, I didn't get any unidentified callers for a little over a week. One afternoon, I was at work and my phone rings and it's a number I do not recognize. I pick up.
"Hello."
"Hi, is this Guy?"
"Yes, to whom am I speaking?"
"This is Hannah, Maryse's sponsor. we spoke last month." I started fearing the worst.
"Yes, I remember. How can I help you?"
"Maryse tried to reach you last week and you rejected the calls. I think it could help Maryse if you listened to what she had to say. You're obviously not obligated to entertain her, but I think despite everything that happened, you still care about her or you would not have called me that morning."
"You are right, I do still care about Maryse. I'm just not sure how good it would be for her to meet me this soon after everything that happened. I understand wanting to work through the 9th step and making amends, but..." She interrupts me.
"So you know about the steps."
"Yes I have friends in the program. which is how I could guess that she was in the program too that morning."
"You know it's important."
"I know. I know. How about this: we meet in public at a cafe, you would have to be there. Not necessarily at the table with us, but nearby in case she needs help, in case meeting me causes her pain. Tell her I promise to be in a more receptive mood than I was that morning."
So we make an appointment for that saturday afternoon.
I get to the coffee shop. She's already there, and so is her sponsor. I realize happily that she's not wearing makeup. I say happily because that means she understands that this is not a date, but something serious. She's still stunningly beautiful, and I feel sad almost right away.
I grab a coffee and go join her at the table.
"Hey" I say,
"Hey. So this is gonna be uncomfortable, but thank you for agreeing to meet me and for coming, I appreciate it more than you know. I'm sure you heard I quit the store."
"I have, I'm sorry about that, I hope you didn't do it just because of me."
"No, I needed time to focus on myself for now."
She proceeds to tell me about how I wasn't far off with my guess. She had been sober 4 months when we met. Now she had 39 days. She tells me that in AA, if you are single, they recommend not dating anyone new for at least the first year of your sobriety as it can cause issues, similar to what happened with us. I was like her "drug" and as long as I was available, she could get her fix. But the moment I wasn't available all hell broke loose, and that is what led her back to drinking that day.
I told her I'm glad to see her back sober again this quickly and I hope she can get all the help she needs from it. I ask her if she wants to talk to me about her drinking.
She starts to share a story about how she started drinking at around 11 years old. When puberty hit her, she got into a deep depression because the sexual feelings she was starting to feel were triggering responses. As a child she had been abused by two of her uncles repeatedly and her parents never believed her. They accused her of trying to make herself interesting. That was until they caught one of those uncles red-handed.
They finally believed and took the necessary steps to protect their daughter. But they were poor and they couldn't afford therapy. So she never really got help for it. At 11, she started self medicating the depression with alcohol. When alcohol wasn't enough, she added drugs.
At that point, I was full on crying. She asked me if I wanted her to stop. I told her that she doesn't have to stop. That the tears are there because that was one more thing we had in common. I was also a survivor of sexual assault as a child. In my case, it wasn't a family member, it was only a stranger, so it only happened once. But I also self-medicated with alcohol at the onset of puberty, switching to drugs later on too. I was lucky to avoid the pitfalls of addiction, but I was still dealing with my demons, slowly making peace with them.
So there we were, sitting at a coffee shop, both crying and holding each other. I tell her that I think it's great she's getting help for her alcoholism and addicion, but was she doing anything to help with the underlying issue, the original trauma? She said no, she couldn't afford therapy. I tell her that I am a member of a survivors group and if she is interested, I could get her into a meeting and perhaps learn to heal that part of herself too.
She said that she could give it a try. I tell her I have to talk to the other members to know if I can bring someone new and I would let her know. If they said yes, we would go to her first meeting together, I would introduce her and then we would coordinate so that I never went to meetings where she was. I wanted to do that because I wanted her first few meetings to be about healing and I didn't want our own history to be intertwined or mixed in with that.
After that, we left both feeling content and, while not necesarily happy, at peace if you will. Later on, I contacted Stephanie who was one of the "pillars" of the support group (that's how we met) to ask her if it was okay for me to bring in a new member to the group. She said sure. She asked if it was anyone she knew. I told her she would have to meet her at the meeting if she decides to come.
We were having a meeting the following day. I called Maryse, told her the time and place, and she said she would be there. She came to the group meeting and was shocked to see Stephanie there but Stephanie kinda guessed that it was Maryse I was referring to.
I introduce her, we start sharing stories, talking about how we're feeling, etc. The meeting was good and Maryse liked the vibe. So for the first six months after that, I never saw Maryse and we planned which meeting we would be attending to ensure we didn't cross paths. She started feeling much better.
After maybe 2 and a half years, she finally felt ready and she started dating again. She met someone and she fell for him. They were together for about six months, she looked happy. Unfortunately after about six months, she caught him cheating on her. We tried supporting her, being good friends, cursing his name, doing all the things we could to make sure she didn't relapse. But on April 5th 2014, she ODed on heroin. She was hospitalized for 2 weeks after that.
Hannah took her in and she set up a room for Maryse. She was still in a fragile state, so a group of her friends and I started taking turns watching over Maryse, making sure there was always at least one person there with her to keep her company.
Despite our vigilance, on May 14th 2014, when Hannah was out running a quick errand, she was gone maybe 15 minutes tops, Maryse found a way to cut her wrists and she died. We found a note saying that "the OD was not an accident, and neither was that. Thanks for everything you did for me. I love you all, but I can't do this anymore."
It feels good to write that story (I'll just ignore the fat tears rolling down my face!). Thanks for reading this far and sorry for the long story, I just started writing and couldn't stop. I apologize if it was a bit of a bummer.

I'm looking to buy some retro nintendo consoles from ebay. A lot of shops are based in Japan and offer free shipping. But they've mentioned that customs are to be paid by the buyer.
I don't really know how to calculate how much I might have to pay. They've also mentioned that they won't be able to mark it as a gift as it is not allowed.
How do I figure out how much I'll have to pay towards customs?
The products are all between 50 and 150 USD.