Mr. Pun

It’s odd how much something as small as a Facebook update can leave a lasting impact.

I can’t remember the context, or even which of us made it. All I know is one of us mentioned board games, the other commented, and you eventually convinced me to go to Techfront. Neither of us are even sure how we were already friends on Facebook at that point.

The Technological Frontier Society – a former futurist society that eventually grew bored of discussing futurism and eventually devolved into a sci-fi club. By the time I joined, it was a standard midnight movie club with board games inexplicably thrown in.

Six and a half years have passed since that first trip, yet I spent my most recent Saturday evening at that club. I even graduated four years ago, yet I somehow find myself tied to it.

With how central it has been to me, it’s weird how out of place I felt there in those early months. I’ve always been intimidated by new people, and most of the people there already had their distinct groups. I felt as an outsider.

You were my in, the one person I could comfortably speak to before I eventually broke in with the others. If I had simply stumbled across this club on my own, I can’t imagine I would have stayed long. It’s easier to hermit.

My freshman friends quickly faded, so I’m always surprised to look back and see how long this group has lasted – we had a table at our wedding that was essentially the Techfront crowd.

Your perception of people tends to change as you get to know them, yet you summarized yourself so perfectly early on. You gave me a ride to Techfront from our dorm one evening and talked of your website. You claim to have a literal pun addiction and created a place to express those humorous yet invasive thoughts – an addiction so strong I believe it’s referenced on your license plate. After talking this site up, you suddenly warned me never to visit.

“Are the puns that bad?” I asked innocently enough, as if I expected you to have shame.

No, no. The site had been hacked and taken over by spam bots. You saved me from a potential virus, but the awful puns? Those would be the cost of your friendship.

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