How To: Gaming
THE HOW TO CO. — EDITION 10
A squad is not something you have. It is something somebody keeps arranging — usually the same somebody, usually without being thanked for it.
The hard part was never the game. The hard part is four people free on the same Tuesday.
Three paths lead out of this courtyard. Every one of them needs somebody at the other end.

You do not need a community. You need three people whose Tuesday you know. How to find them, and how to stop being the only one who ever suggests anything.
ENTER →
Half of a bad night on comms is a microphone nobody set up and a call nobody could act on. Both are fixable in about ten minutes.
ENTER →
Your friends are on other machines and other stores. Some of that gap closes in two settings. Some of it never closes, and it is worth knowing which is which before you buy.
ENTER →Sends the message. Every single time, forever, unthanked.
NEEDSOne person to say yes inside the first hour. Otherwise the plan dies of silence and everybody privately blames the game.
Turns up whether or not it has been a good week.
NEEDSNot to be the only one who does. An anchor carrying a group alone becomes a person who used to play.
Does not know the words yet and will not ask you for them.
NEEDSNinety unprompted seconds of explanation. Offered, not waited for.
On the call most nights, on the microphone almost never.
NEEDSTo be asked something directly, by name. That is the entire fix and it works nearly every time.
Groups almost never end in an argument. They end because three weeks went by, the message did not get sent, and everyone privately decided the others had moved on.
What keeps a gate open is dull and it works: one fixed night, a low bar to turning up, and permission to leave early without making a speech about it.
“Nobody quits a group because the game got bad. They quit because three Tuesdays went past and nobody sent the message.”
The far end of the table is dark because nobody has sat there yet. That is an invitation, not a verdict.