"Wait wait, say that again." "Hey, how's it going?" I repeated, trying not to sound unnatural.
"Ahhh, You're QT1p!" "You got it ." I stood in the corner of the room and took in the surreal scene. There were about ten of us and we were just arriving for the party. Halo 3 happened to release on my birthday so my brother threw us an old fashioned LAN party. Most of us have been friends for years and there were a couple of new guys too. Only about half of us had met in person so it wasn't your typical social scenario.

As I scanned around the room, I could read the conversations without knowing what they were saying. One talked while the other person stared in studied concentration or looked away while the other one talked so he could focus on the sound of the voice, trying to guess which friend they were speaking to.
One guy held his hand out flat like he was measuring someone for a roller coaster. I think I know what he was saying.
"You're a lot shorter in real life." That was when I noticed what a social equalizer the video game is. In this case "Vegan" (that's his gamertag) was speaking to my brother "Vorb" for the first time, which by itself I found surprising since they've been playing together for years. Vegan is maybe 5' 5" and 140 lbs and has a stylishly studious look, looking every bit the USC film school grad. Vorb is 6' 3", 230 lbs, an all-state high school football player and captain of his college rugby team. In the game, though, they are two of the most formidable players, only distinguished by their texture mapped faces and essentially equals. In fact, if we were choosing a team, I think Vegan would have the edge (sorry Bro) because he communicates so clearly and efficiently, making him easier to predict and coordinate with.
I was also surprised by how little we knew about each other, those of us who only interact online. We talk online, but just not very personally. I think the reason is that the game "lobby" is essentially a big party line so we take turns speaking and only occasionally veer from game-related topics, not wanting to bore everyone with our side conversations. At the party I learned that one of my friends is a cop, which explains his odd work schedule, and that he had his first high-speed pursuit that day. Another friend and his wife were expecting a baby girl (she has since been born).
I suppose online gaming is similar to pickup basketball games, but without any of the side conversations. The gaming service is single-purpose for team and group communication, but limits one-to-one friendship-building conversations. It is technically possible to have a one-on-one conversation, but it removes you from the group entirely. I should say that this observation isn't an indictment of the technology, but an observation of the state of social technology in gaming. In fact, there were a half dozen of our group who couldn't attend the party because they live in far-away places like Orange County, Oregon, England, Switzerland. I probably wouldn't interact with these guys at all if it weren't for this technology.
At a break in the battle we put down our controllers, took a few deep breaths to calm our nerves and shuffled into the kitchen. "Degauss" hoisted up a cardboard box and began distributing mugs he made to commemorate the
physical event. On the mug was a list of our names and a snapshot of the location in (the previous version of)the game where the most carnage occurs, dubbed "DeathAlley". It was a nice thing, what Degauss did. It confirmed what I had always felt, a feeling of comradery , despite the lack of intimacy...and the ability to recognize one another.
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