Dear All of My Friends,
I love you guys. I enjoy hanging out with you in person or online, having a good time enjoying our common interests.
High Five, Tricia
There is one man that I have to thank for introducing me to the group of very good friends that I made during my first year of college, including my husband. He’s also one of the people who introduced me to Joss Whedon’s Firefly.
As one of the only members of a tight-knit group of friends left at NCC after the others graduated, got jobs, or went home, Sam did not feel sorry for himself or hole up in his apartment alone. He sought out fellow nerds, who like himself, were proud of it: he set up a game of Risk right in front of the entrance to the dorms.
What better way to find out which of the freshmen were awesome enough to hang out with? I remember wandering past that game and glancing at the table, thinking “huh, dice,” and going about my business. I obviously didn’t make the cut. Thankfully, someone else invited me to come and watch a session of D&D being played at Sam’s, so I was able to join the group that way.
I quit my waitressing job in July of 2006 to get married. I got a different one a month later, and was being showed the ropes by a young man who would soon become a good friend. He was telling me about he and his friends being silly at a party, throwing a fake wedding for himself and a friend. “We had the box set of my favorite TV show on the mantle as sort of an altar,” he told me, grinning. “Oh, really?” I asked, “What show?” “Oh, Fox cancelled it a while ago, it’s called Firefly...” he replied. “Ah!” I exclaimed. He looked up sharply from what he was doing, clearly not expecting me to recognize the name. “Do you-” he began. “Awesome!” I interrupted. We embraced. To paraphrase Chris Farley, “Browncoats don’t shake hands; Browncoats gotta hug!"
It wasn’t long before we were all hanging out in the sunroom-turned-gameroom in the apartment my husband I shared, as Sam ran a game of Dungeons and Dragons.
Today, my group of friends and I talk every day in various Skype conversations that let us connect with one another even though we’re spread across the country (the world, really, since one of us is currently studying abroad). And Sam is still awesome, continually converting people he meets to awesomeness as well.
So thank you, Sam, for allowing me to be your friend and introducing me to many of the people in my life who I have come to treasure. Thank you for lending some of your awesomeness to make me an awesomer person.