Praha – Pardubice Tue April 10

Ladies and Gentleman, guess what happened today. Hold tight to something solid in your proximity such as a table or a lamp post while I reveal the shocking news about what happened on this day,

Ladies and Gentleman, guess what happened today. Hold tight to something solid in your proximity such as a table or a lamp post while I reveal the shocking news about what happened on this day, this Tuesday the 10th of April.

Are you ready?

Ok, here it comes:

I took the train.

Oh yes, you heard right. I (Harald) bought a train ticket (with my own money) to go to Pardubice, a city connected by hitchhikeable highway and country road to Praha (a distance I had covered before).

Was my feet bleeding again? Did I lose my appetite? Did my ass double in size from last night? Was there a warning on the radio saying that “don’t pick up hitchhikers today, 20 mental patients with chainsaws escaped this morning”? Was it raining acid cats and dogs?

No, today I had an appointment with Radim, to fix the last details in the production of my game, and to determine it’s price. I didn’t want to let him down. I didn’t want to once again leave Czechia without at least 10 copies of the world’s first linguistic strategy game in my hand. I didn’t want to live another day in the life of a person that hasn’t published a board game. I know it’s not a problem for most of you to live such a life, but for me it isn’t an option.

(I hope you understand that I am not talking about suicide here, I am just being melodramatic.)

Last time I hitchhiked from Praha to Pardubice it took me 6 stupid hours. That’s an average speed of 15 km/h. Hitchhiking towards a meeting with my creator (that is, the creator of my board game) at a speed of 15 km/h would stress me out to the point that my stomach would fly out my throat and wrap my head till I suffocated. So I got the 6 € out of my tight ass and got that embarrassing piece of paper with my destination written on it and put it in my file to deduct it from my taxes.

I sat down in the train car and wasn’t expected to small-talk to anyone in there so I just tried to relax and read Susanna Alakoski’s Svinalängorna that my mother had given me.

Although I took train and bus I arrived in time to meet Radim. He didn’t have that much to say yet – still kept in uncertainty by his own suppliers, he didn’t know what numbers to give me. But he said that we would go to the factory and have a look at the production and he promised to have at least 10 copies ready on Friday.

Then I wrote e-mails the whole day.

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