A while back, I was talking to a coworker when he commented that he was starting to play a lot more chess. His son liked the game, so in an effort to be supportive of a constructive hobby, the guy was playing a lot more. Actually, he discovered that he liked the game. Assuming that I knew how to play, he asked when we were going to play a game (apparently the "closet" part of "closet nerd" isn't working out so well for me).
On a whim, I bought one of those cheap magnetic chess sets and brought it in to work. It's not like we sit there and goof off the whole time, but there's always a little bit of down time. Between the computer-mandated ergonomic breaks, having a few minutes before a meeting, or plain old coffee/water/fatigue breaks, there are always a few minutes to kill. I figured using up a couple of those minutes to make a move couldn't hurt, and it'd be a pleasant distraction.
Well, it worked. It took us like two weeks to finish a game (he won), but the plan pretty much worked as expected. It was a simple distraction, and it's not like it was hurting anyone or their productivity. All in all, a job well done.
Anyhow, I set up the board again for the next game. However, the guy is really busy at work, so he said he's going to have to hold off until this part of the project finishes. That's perfectly reasonable, so I didn't object. I simply left the board set up in a corner of my cubicle, and figured we'd start it up eventually.
One day soon after that, though, I walked in to my cubicle to realize that someone had made a move. Interesting, there was another taker. Well, I'm not particularly picky about who I play with, so I figured I'd keep the game going. However, there was one small problem: the person moved a black piece. The rules dictated that white move first, so this was slightly problematic.
This was a I've-never-played-before type of rookie mistake, so I knew the guy I was previously playing with wasn't responsible. But I didn't know who had made that first move, so I couldn't just say, "hey, white should go first. You can have that same move, but you play white and I'll play black." It was the absolute first move of the game, so it's not like we had to roll back several moves to determine what was fair. Nope, we just turn the board around, make the exact same move on the other side, and be about our business.
However, I couldn't just unilaterally decide to do this. If I did, the other person would be extremely confused about why I undid that first move, and how come I was doing the exact same thing on the other side.Also, the player would try to move a black piece again, even though it was white's turn to play. All in all, just "fixing" it wouldn't have helped much.
Given that, I left a note on the board. It explained that white usually goes first, so I'd let the other person make the change if he was looking for a game. Simple enough, right? I didn't see who made the move, so the chess board was really my only option for communicating with that person.
Well, the pieces haven't moved since. I don't know if that person has been busy or if he's suddenly embarrassed about the gaffe, but the mystery player has disappeared. Suddenly, I have a mystery on my hands. I won't lie; I have occasionally wondered who moved the piece. It's the mystery of it all that makes me so curious. Who knows just enough about chess to do something like that? Who even knew that there was a chess board there? Or maybe it was someone intentionally trying to screw with me, secure in the knowledge that I'd puzzle over this move for a while. If so, who do I know who is that devious? And, perhaps more importantly, how do I exact some payback? The plot thickens, I tell you.
All in all, I've still got work to do, so it's not like I waste time spying on people. I do, however, pay slightly more attention when I see someone leaving the general area of my cubicle. Who knew a chess board would bring this much intrigue?
On a whim, I bought one of those cheap magnetic chess sets and brought it in to work. It's not like we sit there and goof off the whole time, but there's always a little bit of down time. Between the computer-mandated ergonomic breaks, having a few minutes before a meeting, or plain old coffee/water/fatigue breaks, there are always a few minutes to kill. I figured using up a couple of those minutes to make a move couldn't hurt, and it'd be a pleasant distraction.
Well, it worked. It took us like two weeks to finish a game (he won), but the plan pretty much worked as expected. It was a simple distraction, and it's not like it was hurting anyone or their productivity. All in all, a job well done.
Anyhow, I set up the board again for the next game. However, the guy is really busy at work, so he said he's going to have to hold off until this part of the project finishes. That's perfectly reasonable, so I didn't object. I simply left the board set up in a corner of my cubicle, and figured we'd start it up eventually.
One day soon after that, though, I walked in to my cubicle to realize that someone had made a move. Interesting, there was another taker. Well, I'm not particularly picky about who I play with, so I figured I'd keep the game going. However, there was one small problem: the person moved a black piece. The rules dictated that white move first, so this was slightly problematic.
This was a I've-never-played-before type of rookie mistake, so I knew the guy I was previously playing with wasn't responsible. But I didn't know who had made that first move, so I couldn't just say, "hey, white should go first. You can have that same move, but you play white and I'll play black." It was the absolute first move of the game, so it's not like we had to roll back several moves to determine what was fair. Nope, we just turn the board around, make the exact same move on the other side, and be about our business.
However, I couldn't just unilaterally decide to do this. If I did, the other person would be extremely confused about why I undid that first move, and how come I was doing the exact same thing on the other side.Also, the player would try to move a black piece again, even though it was white's turn to play. All in all, just "fixing" it wouldn't have helped much.
Given that, I left a note on the board. It explained that white usually goes first, so I'd let the other person make the change if he was looking for a game. Simple enough, right? I didn't see who made the move, so the chess board was really my only option for communicating with that person.
Well, the pieces haven't moved since. I don't know if that person has been busy or if he's suddenly embarrassed about the gaffe, but the mystery player has disappeared. Suddenly, I have a mystery on my hands. I won't lie; I have occasionally wondered who moved the piece. It's the mystery of it all that makes me so curious. Who knows just enough about chess to do something like that? Who even knew that there was a chess board there? Or maybe it was someone intentionally trying to screw with me, secure in the knowledge that I'd puzzle over this move for a while. If so, who do I know who is that devious? And, perhaps more importantly, how do I exact some payback? The plot thickens, I tell you.
All in all, I've still got work to do, so it's not like I waste time spying on people. I do, however, pay slightly more attention when I see someone leaving the general area of my cubicle. Who knew a chess board would bring this much intrigue?
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