We don't even have a game system anymore. But I had bought an Xbox, presusmably for Urchling. And I bought Fortnite when it first came out. But I bought it based on that build game it was originally as something Urchling and I could play together. I do like defensive strategy tower games and Urchling liked Minecraft. The clunky blocky aesthetic of Minecraft for on my nerves and Urchling doesn't like it when there aren't any players to run around.

So Fortnite seemed perfect! And it was. We were moving along through the game, enjoying it, trying out all manner of builds and characters. Building on the fly and all that.

I was dating this guy, who made it to being invited over and meeting Urchling and I'll be damned if that heifer didn't ruin that game for her in two hours flat. She droppes it and refuses to play it anymore.

Then he wanted to play over the headset and internet. You know, he from his place and me from my place so we could "spend more time together" and also "really play", meaning without having to humor the kids (he had two daughters, and now also a son).

I agreed. And this is where we see that in some ways Utchling has always had better sense than me. But then, she was not raised by traditional southern lady upbringing and so has zero problem setting boundaries or saying no. She doesn't even have to use words. She just gives you this look and does this "move on" gesture with her hands. It's amazing to behold. I've seen grown men electrocuted under the shock of an Urchling boundary.

I digress.

Anyway, I should have had better sense. On the other hand, it ahowee me what I needed to see before things proceeded further. All he ever wanted to do was play that game and play the Battle Royale part. And being physically alone, he starts doing what a lot of guys do. Screaming insults and blame over the headset. Every failure is both my fault and every little thing is catastrophic.

Like always, it started out small and for worse over time.

I dumped him within two months. It was a month and a half too long to cling to something that got slaughtered. And why?

That was the last guy I dated.