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Roll On

February 7, 2012 - 7:32pm -- swingbug

On my way home from work I popped into the comic book store. I headed over to the Dark Horse rack to see if there was anything new in any of my favorites. (Of course I knew there wasn't; I'm on three different mailing lists that would have alerted me if a new Umbrella Academy was on the way, but a girl can dream.)

The guy behind the counter took in my Firefly t-shirt and patch-covered backpack that proclaims me "geek" in various ways despite my middle-aged mom exterior, and we started to chat Whedonverse and whether any of the story arcs from Season 9 were going to graphic novel anytime soon. Around the time we're debating whether or not the earlier Buffy omnibus series count as canon or not, I'm feeling pretty good about myself.

I discovered comics rather late in life, on the standard relative scale, and here I am having a reasonably intelligent discussion with a pro, right? I understand that if the extent of my ambitions is to be as cool as the guy running the comic book shop, then, well, the sorting hat will never put me in Slytherin; that's for sure.

It's just neat when, after treading the ground as an interloper in strange land–even a small land like a yarn shop, or a dance class, or indeed, a comic book store–one day you look around and realize that you've become less of a tourist and more of a native. You've learned the language and the customs and the ground feels good under your feet, you know?

"Oh, and I need a new D20 while I'm in here," I told the guy behind the counter.

"Alright!" the guy says, and brings out a ginormous tray of 20-side dice, showing me the new ones and his personal favorites. I selected a bright, shiny red one and handed it to the clerk along with my 90¢. 

"Nice," he says, examining the color, "You can roll with vengeance and fury."

I considered telling him that I’m actually using the D20 to help me plan out rows for a knitting pattern, but I thought I'd blow my cover.

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