Literally Dying

Frank finished another dungeon. He lifted his glass to his mouth while reading the messages with a sideways glance, tilted it further, tilted the glass so that the liquid should have been all over his face, looked inside of the glass and remembered he didn’t fill it up before entering the dungeon.

Time for a refill. Frank queued as DPS and stood up. DPS queues were about ten minutes, it said. That was plenty of time to get a refill, pee, and do a couple of quests while waiting on the queue to pop. He started to walk away when he heard the noise that signaled to him that his dungeon was ready.

He was thirsty, but it is very rare that dungeons pop so quick for DPS. He clicked enter the dungeon and started.

DPSing was very different than tanking. In some ways, tanking was easier. You made sure all of the enemies were attacking you and that you didn’t die. It had been trimmed down to that. What was once the hardest role had become the easiest. Now, he had to make sure to dodge the pools of acid or fire, not sure if the healer would get to him in time. He had to engage in the mechanics. Best of all, or worst of all, he had to do a lot of damage to the enemies while doing all of these things. It was very stressful and Frank felt the sweat stains under his arms spread.

Frank concentrated hard on the mechanics of the fights, and made sure to rotate his cool downs. The bosses fell quickly. His gear was good for the content he was doing. After most of the bosses, he brought his empty glass to his mouth, realized it was still empty, then set it down and kept playing. He could refill it in a minute. He had had fun and wanted to thank his group.

“GG,” the healer said in the chat at the end of the dungeon.

The tank left instantly, as did the two other DPS when they saw the tank had left. So much for thanking everyone.

“GG,” Frank said. He started to stand but saw another message.

“It’s tough to find good groups these days,” the healer said.

“Yeah,” Frank said, sitting back down. “Most of the tanks rush through and grab as many mobs as they can while everyone is dying.”

“lol, yeah,” the healer said. “I’m kind of old school, so it’s really tough on me. I’m used to one pack at a time and even then some of the mobs are polymorphed or sapped.”

“Right,” Frank said. “It’s a different world now. I’m struggling too.”

“I gtg. It’s a shame you don’t tank, we have a raid scheduled in a few minutes. I gotta see if the tank is going to make it. There was some confusion about that. I guess his mom went to the hospital,” the healer said.

“I do normally tank. Look, my tanking trinkets are fully upgraded,” Frank said. He linked his trinkets in chat.

“Do you want to come raid with us?” the healer asked.

“Sure.”

After the dungeon, the healer whispered Frank and said that one of their normal tanks did end up having to bail. That meant that Frank could join.

It had been a while since Frank had tanked a raid. It was tough to gather ten or twenty five people together at the same time, and he had eventually gave up. It was just too much hassle when you could do dungeons with random people whenever you wanted and the gear was almost as good. His gear was good enough for what they were doing. He had ran enough dungeons to upgrade everything in his tanking set to its max level.

The issue that Frank faced was that he didn’t know the raid. He pulled up the fights on a web browser and read about them while everyone got organized. When they summoned him, he thought he at least wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

The door stood in front of his character, giant and wreathed in flame. He went inside and found stone pillars that were almost a hundred feet high. Packs of enemies roamed the grounds. They would tear apart a normal five person group. Frank saw the boss ahead, targeted one of the mobs, and prayed.

The fights went decently. Some people hadn’t read about the mechanics and it showed. Frank pulled them through though. He knew when to trade off to the other tank, where to stand, where not to stand, what abilities to use and when to use them. He did good.

By the two hour mark they had reached a place that was a good stopping point. Some of the players needed to go back to their real lives.

“Thanks for coming. You did great,” the healer said.

“Thanks. There were a couple of times when I didn’t know where to go, so I just followed the pack.”

“The boss fights went well, and that’s all that matters. See ya later.”

“See ya,” Frank said.

He looked at the empty glass beside his monitor. Two hours of raiding after he had meant to really really refill it, it still held no more water. Now was as good of a time as any.

Frank went pee and then went into the kitchen. He turned on the faucet in the sink and brown water came out. Yay living in a big city.

To the side of the sink was his water filter. He had meant to change it before, but didn’t want to spend the time. There were always water bottles in his fridge, so he didn’t worry.

Frank went to his fridge and opened it. There wasn’t any water bottles inside, or anything else to drink. He turned around and saw a box of soda warming on the floor. That wouldn’t do right now.

He locked his door on the way out, then stuffed his keys into his pocket. He didn’t have a filter or water bottles, but the closest store was just down the road. It was maybe a two minute drive if the traffic was bad. He could even walk there if he wanted. He was so parched though.

Frank got down to his car and expected it to not start. The engine turned over and hummed quietly. He was on his way.

Frank felt like he hit all of the the red lights, but that didn’t matter. Soon, he would be sipping some cold and refreshing water that someone had spent hours climbing a glacier to collect.

He pulled into the parking lot, got out of his car, and tugged on the door. It didn’t open. He pulled the other door to make sure he hadn’t pulled the wrong one and it also wouldn’t open.

The lights had been off when he arrived, but he figured he didn’t see them because of all of the posters in the windows. He checked his phone. It was 1 a.m. The sign on the store said it closed at 11 p.m. He wasn’t even close.

There had to be someplace else open. The restaurants were all closed. Even the fast food closed by midnight. That left only the super markets.

Frank pulled up the directions to Kroger on his phone and started driving there. He could have had a soda at home, but he chose to go out and get a water. He could at least fall back on the soda if Kroger didn’t work out. He was sure to be fine though. A person could go days without water. A few hours wasn’t a big deal. He smacked his lips and drove faster.

The Kroger parking lot was barren at this time of day. That was good, he wouldn’t have to wait in line. The automatic doors didn’t open as he approached. The sign said they closed at 10 p.m. He had been sure this would work.

That still left Walmart. Good ole Walmart was there when you needed something at a random hour and didn’t feel like wearing your good clothes when you went out. He got back into his car and checked the directions on his phone. Walmart would be closed when he arrived. They closed at 11 p.m. Since when was Walmart not 24 hours?

The only store left that Frank could think of was Meijer. The app said they are still 24 hours. He breathed a sigh across desert sand lips and drove.

Frank expected something to happen before he got to the doors. A bolt of lightning would come out of the blank sky above him and strike him down before he could get through. The doors opened and he was inside. It worked!

He walked to the section that should have water. Frank was devastated to see that the cases of water were all on sale, every brand and every size, and they were all sold out.

He could get a soda, but he had some at home. The end caps!

Frank ran down the aisle and scanned the end caps. No water. He ran to the other end. No water there either. He looked for it stacked on crates in the walk ways and didn’t see any. There was no water in the whole store. He would have to go home and drink warm soda. He may as well have gotten his drink out of the urinal.

Back at his apartment, Frank sighed as he locked his door. All of that time wasted trying to get something that he could get in the morning, and he even forgot to get a water filter while he was out. He groaned out loud at that.

He scooped up the cardboard box and it was lighter than it should have been. Please no. He reached his other hand inside, starting to panic. He looked in, thinking maybe he missed the last can with both hands somehow. He could have gotten stronger in the last few hours and forgot what an empty box feels like. He was wrong. The box clattered to the floor.

He could go back to Meijer and buy more soda, or he could save some time by asking his neighbor.

He opened his door and walked nervously across the hall. He held up a fist, thought about going again. It wasn’t too late. He licked his scaly lips. The fist moved, beat on the door, and the door swung open.

It was now after 1 a.m. Why was his neighbor’s door unlocked at this hour? Didn’t he care about safety? Sure he wouldn’t mind Frank closing it.

“Hello,” Frank yelled into the dark apartment.

“I’m just closing your door,” Frank said. He pulled the door almost closed.

He waited and listened. His neighbor might be away, or asleep. His yells would have awoken someone and they would have come to their door to see who was yelling in their house, even if they were just there to close the door.

He must be gone. If he was gone, then he surely wouldn’t mind if Frank went inside for a drink. He could be in his own home and back out with a drink in ten seconds if he wanted. The kitchen was one of the first rooms you come to in the small apartments they lived in. It was so close now. He opened the door a little.

“Hello?” he yelled again.

He put a foot in and yelled, “I’m just coming in to get a drink.”

It was just a drink. He could get it, then go back across the hall and write a note saying that the door was open and he got a drink. He could slide a dollar under the door and the whole mess would be over. He could go to sleep then, and the next day, his neighbor would laugh about it with his kids. Did he have kids? It didn’t matter. He could laugh about it with a friend. It could be a good way for them to finally meet.

Frank took another step into the apartment and heard shouting in a different language. Back in the hallway was his neighbor, yelling something and pointing a gun.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Frank said, holding up his hands.

The man was very angry. His face was red and he was shouting at Frank, pointing to him and to the ground. Frank knew what he wanted, even though he didn’t speak the language that sounded like Spanish.

Frank moved slowly into the hallway, careful not to disturb the man. The man’s wife cowered by the corner and shouted too. Frank lie on the ground with his hands on the back of his head. A shoe stepped on Frank’s back and he complained, but didn’t move.

The police arrived minutes later. Frank was booked and taken down town on charges of breaking and entering. They wouldn’t hear that the door was unlocked, or Frank’s story about needing a drink and it all being a misunderstanding, that he didn’t want to steal anything.

Bars swung open and Frank walked into the jail cell. His two cellmates were asleep. He didn’t care. In front of him was a water fountain. It was all he could drink, the only thing he thought about, the only thing he cared about. He pushed the button and nothing came out.

“That’s out of order. Someone broke it a few hours ago,” the guard said.

Frank would have to wait until morning to get a drink.