Here, pretty much without comment, Hipsters presents one of the funniest Magic-related stories we’ve ever heard.

By Tony Loman

So I showed up for the Modern GPT at [STORE NAME REDACTED] the other day with my super-sweet Jund deck sleeved up ready to crush people and win some byes I would never use since I am not going to goddamn Milwaukee. I arrived on time-ish, meaning I got there at like 11:03 or 11:05. Like always at [STORE NAME REDACTED] tournaments there was like nobody there, maybe nine or 10 at most and the store was mostly empty.

I asked if I could sign up and was told flat out no. At this point there were no pairings up and the tournament had not even come close to starting. I pointed out the foolishness of turning away paying customers when nobody shows up to their shitty tournaments to begin with but the judge only offered to give me a round one loss. This is a four-round tournament and would essentially eliminate me. Considering the entrance fee was $20, I counter-offered with a game loss but the dope refused.

So I told him to go fuck himself when he lectured me that I should have been on time and left in a foul and vile mood.

Since I was in Manhattan anyway I decided to go shoe shopping. I got some super-sweet cheap-ass shoes at DSW Shoe Warehouse at Union Square and they put ’em in one of those ridiculous irrationally humongous brown paper shopping bags.

I went down into the 14th Street L stop and thought I’d look good for the swarms of cute hipster girls on the train so I put down the shoe bag on the platform and changed into my new shoes. As I was doing this, I put my super-sweet Jund deck in my giant DSW Shoe Warehouse shopping bag along with my book and other assorted junk on me at the time.

I was hastily lacing up my new shoes before the rapidly approaching L train got to the station. Suddenly as the train was maybe 100 feet away down the tunnel a big WHOOSH of wind from the oncoming train blasted me in the face and sent my shopping bag blowing rapidly away down the edge of the subway platform like a giant sail in a hurricane!

I leaped into action and ran after the fleeing shopping bag without the slightest hesitation. Gawking, slack-jawed fools jumped back from the bag like it was some kind of rabid raccoon rather than just stomping on it with their feet and saving my precious Magical cards.

As the bag started to blow off the platform onto the tracks I made a leaping dive for the bag, like a first baseman diving for a line drive up the foul-ball line!

My fingertips brushed against the bag but it was just out of reach and went went sailing onto the tracks. I just barely missed it! I watched in horror as my sweet Jund deck containing 4x Dark Confidant, 4X Tarmogoyf, 4X Thoughtseize, 4X Liliana of the Veil, 4X Verdant Catacombs, and etc. went bouncing to a stop on the train tracks.

I whipped my arm back and rolled away from the tracks 0.5 seconds before being splattered by the oncoming L train!

After the train left I agonizingly weighed whether or not to just go on the tracks and get the deck. On the one hand the platform is only about four or five feet above the tracks and I am 99 percent sure I could easily climb back up on the platform. On the other hand there is nothing really to grab onto to pull yourself up, and being 99 percent sure you won’t get crushed to death by an on coming train is still a pretty risky bet. On the other hand if I don’t go get the deck I am likely to just quit Magic since I am never buying another set of Goyfs, Bobs, Lilianas, and etc. ever again.

Ultimately common sense prevails and I just leave, fully expecting to never see my cards again. I stop by the ticket booth to ask one of those idiotic MTA workers who seems to have no function other than sit in a glass box and watch a little TV and gorge themselves on snacks if they can have someone help me out. I tell the irate MTA “worker” that I just dropped something on the tracks. The lady is super annoyed that she has to do anything remotely resembling work and keeps asking me what the object is and if it is in the way of a train. I keep trying to tell her that it is not in the way of the train and she pretends she doesn’t understand why I am telling her about it if it is small and won’t get in the way of the train. I try to explain that it is a small plastic box which contains very, very valuable contents.

She rolls her eyes, harumphs, and gets on her little microphone to talk to somebody about something I can’t hear. She laughs and goes back to eating Au Bon Pain snacks. I tap on her glass cage and ask her what is up.

She tells me, “Now we have to play the waiting game.”

I ask her what the hell that means and she says I can wait there or wait on the platform, without explaining if they are going to assist me.

So after about 30 minutes some weirdo burly bearded guys with hooks, baskets, and other paraphernalia show up and proceed scoop up my deck—which luckily didn’t pop open and blow all my cards down the tracks, which is suprising because all my deck boxes are 10 years old and totally worn out.


End of story.

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