My player name, Lizbit31415, and country name, Uforia, are both gender neutral. At least, so I thought. Jackie had a hunch I was a woman. What did Jackie do? She asked me for a picture of my tits, so I blocked her account. Turns out it was a fake account she uses to troll other gamers. She messaged me from her real account, claiming she knew I had to be a chick after I blocked her. A dude would have done a Google image search and posted the first pair of tits he could find before asking for some in return. Apparently, only dudes send titty pics.

Gotta love Jackie-logic.

It’s hard to build up a country to first-world status. It takes an excruciating amount of time, skill and a bit of luck. I spend about ten hours a week playing. Then there’s forums to read and my league membership responsibilities. It’s more than just a hobby. Outside of school, this game is my whole life. One of the few things I’m good at. Jackie and I are two of only a handful of women who’ve managed it. I’m not going to say we’re famous or anything. More in-game notorious, Jackie much more than me.

Jackie’s kind of evil, in the game at least. She loves to say, “It’s a man’s world, but I run the bitch.” It’s fair to say I idolize her. But today she’s getting on my last nerve.

“I think I know who wants to touch you with his ten-foot pole,” she teases.

This is getting old. She’s been at it all day, harassing me about Austin. I never should’ve told her about our fake date. Or about his party tonight.

“Jesus, can we talk about the game for once? You’re obsessed.” I want to talk to my best friend, play my game and zone out tonight. Jackie is having none of it.

“I’m not obsessed. Just an interested party. It was my idea, after all!” she reminds me casually.

Technically, she suggested an escort. I compromised with a sex tutor. The nuanced difference seems to be lost on Jackie. She’s happy I’m going to finally ‘get my freak on.’

I made the mistake of confessing my inexperience to her about a year ago. Months of merciless teasing culminated in a strip-o-gram on my doorstep. At least, I hope he was just a stripper. I never let him in to find out. I did give him a fifty-dollar tip to leave, though.

Never give a home address to strangers online, kids!

Jackie was pissed I wasted a perfectly good stripper and wouldn’t stop hounding me about the idea of ‘immersion therapy.’ She said it worked for her cousin’s fear of heights. It could work for my fear of cocks too. Her words, not mine. I don’t use words like…that.