My dearest friends,

I write to you from the far corner of the living room. My journey was tiresome but I eventually found a spot safe enough to settle in for a moment while you continue playing Settlers of Catan, a game I do not know and one that no one has offered to explain. Please rest assured—should you ever pull your attention away from that board of hexagons—that I am safe and doing as well as can be expected for an outcast.

I have gathered blankets and cushions from the surrounding couches. It is dark but luckily this house we rented in upstate New York to “get away” from the city for the weekend has heat and electricity. Though I fear I misheard you when you all said, “get away” because you must have said, “sit at the table and play Settlers of Catan for 48 hours.”

I propped up the cushions around me and draped a blanket over the top so I am safe from the hospitable elements—the laughter, the bonding, the strengthening of friendship over some foolish game. I am thankful to have discovered this haven for myself. I even managed to find some memes and Twitter jokes on my phone to help dig up some laughter from the depths of my lonely soul.

I foraged some pre-sliced pepperonis and the Cool Ranch Doritos so I shan’t go hungry. The Doritos are stale since the bag was left open on the table during the 10-hour game from yestereve. But I am grateful for each tangy morsel that fills the emotional hole inside my heart. Should you feel a draft, worry not, for I have opened the window in order to gather snow for melting into fresh water.

I have also collected all the phone chargers. If you need one, you’ll have to hang out with me for 15 minutes. Maybe we sing a popular song, shotgun a beer, engage in banter that will lead to a most delightful inside joke. Who’s to say. Not I—unless someone stops playing the game long enough to come over here and converse with me for a moment. Please?

In addition to the most clever parallel I have made in offering to trade the chargers for increments of friendship, I have also taken apart the fireplace. I do not know what for but I hoped to make another move that mirrors the game in some way and, as I emphasized multiple, multiple times, I do not know how to play. Except for remembering that brick is another resource you need. Unfortunately, we probably won’t get the security deposit back since I hath destroyed this fireplace. But I’ll also never get this weekend back.

I am afraid I must be moving on now. I’ve spotted lights in the far distance and I do so hope they’re beacons of a welcoming community. “Zounds!” I’ll exclaim as I recount my harrowing trek. And they’ll shepherd me in with libations and delicious meats and an invitation to join them in Cards Against Humanity—a game of unlimited players.

I know it’s silly to dream of such unimaginable luxuries but, maybe that’s only because you all sucketh.

I am bringing the chargers with me. Be well.

Join upcoming November classes in Satire Writing, Sketch Writing, and Stand-Up Joke Writing.