The Game Dame

Find out what it means to me…

Leeroy Jenkins Style: …when my level 70 shaman graciously agrees to heal you & your level 52 buddies on a run through BRD. Without telling anyone that you’re going AFK, put yourself on Follow for the first 20 minutes of the instance. Better yet, follow me, making sure that your hairy Tauren butt is always in my way every time I turn around, making it impossible for me to see everyone I need to heal. When you come back, fail to drop your totems, target the right mobs, and then you and your friends laugh at me because I’m angry. Then, enjoy the fact that “at least you have chicken” when I wait for a mob pull directly on you as I Astral Recall out of there, leaving you to ponder RESPECT.

Henry Paulson Style: …when you hit level 30, ask to borrow 33 gold from me, not knowing me from Adam, even though you belong to a guild (not mine). Plead with me. Badger me at the Auction House. When I tell you to ask your guild, you say “No officers are online.” I say, “Then you’ll have to wait.” Ask me one more time and you’ll get /ignored so you can meditate on RESPECT.

Biting the Hand that Feeds You Style: …when, after hearing that I’ve been selected as the head of Inscription for our guild, and the GM has just asked everyone to send me herbs for leveling, buy out all of the low level herbs from the Auction House and then whisper me that you need more herbs for leveling Inscription yourself. While you’re out farming in the post-Echoes of Doom herb wasteland, you’ll be learning the meaning of RESPECT.

Kamikaze Style: …when a Rogue or Mage of my own faction ninjas the mob I was about to fry on the beta server and then finds himself surrounded by more than he can handle, your little green life bar begins dwindling down to nothing. You look pleadingly at me for a heal, a Lightning Bolt, anything. Even better, maybe you emote or yell, “I need healing!” Instead, I watch and scratch my big hairy Tauren butt. Maybe your RESPECT for me is in there somewhere.