Eric's tug history

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Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 4:12 am

I'd love to be a writer, but I hate jumping in on the board with all these experienced writers. On the other hand I've been reading stories here for a long time. So this is my first try. For practice, I'm modifying an answer I wrote to a question in tugs talk (viewtopic.php?f=4&t=7601, under my old name EricNotIdle). It was short answer (and I didn't care anything about format, grammar, ...), but now I'm making it read more like a story, and I hope it goes ok so I'll feel up to writing more of the tugs I've had. Anyway, the question was "What was your first experience?"



The first time I remember, I was around 6 years old, at a family cookout. I didn't hear the first part of the conversation, but one of my cousins (8-10 years old) was thinking it was super easy to escape from rope. My uncle was trying to tell him it's way harder than it looks. So that turned into a challenge; my cousin agreed to try an escape.

They got a rope and tied my cousin up right there in the yard, hogtie. Nope he couldn't get out! It was definitely not what he expected.

But even though I was watching him fail, I was 6; just watching, I thought it looked really easy to get out of, or at least I thought, "Maybe my cousin is too stupid to escape, because it sure doesn't look that hard!" So I said pretty much the same thing he had "I can get out of that!"

After he was untied, me and another cousin my age both wanted to do it. I was next though. I was hogtied exactly the same way. I think it really surprised me that I couldn't just slip out. I had never felt THAT stuck before . . . and it was actually cool. It seemed like forever back then, but probably just lasted 2 or 3 minutes, just long enough for my uncle to say, "See, it's not that easy, is it?" And for my Dad to say something smart alec; I heard something like, "You need to leave him like that, keep him out of trouble." Thanks, Dad, lol.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Sat Apr 12, 2014 6:19 am

Don't apologise for posting because of "all these experienced writers". We all had to start some time, and your writing is no worse than most and a damn sight better than some.
Welcome to the League of TUGwriters.
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but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby FelixSH » Sat Apr 12, 2014 6:50 am

I agree with xtc, if you want to share a story feel free to do so. You will get the experience with time. It is, IMO, well enough written, especially because it reminds me of the sort of story that were posted here a long time ago, in the dreambook-days of the website. Written short and simple, obviously drawn from memory. I konw, I repeat myself, but I´m always happy about to read a story of this type.
In other words, if you have more memories I would like to read about them too. :)

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 7:21 am

Thanks a lot :). Yeah, "from memory" is the kind of stuff I've put together in my mind to write about, and I guess that's what I thought everything was in "true stories"

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby FelixSH » Sat Apr 12, 2014 8:21 am

Well, yes, you are right, that´s of course the point of the "true stories" section. What I meant was something different, which I had, and still have, problems putting into words. So please just ignore that part of my reply and concentrate on the part that makes sense.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 9:58 am

xtc wrote:Don't apologise for posting because of "all these experienced writers". We all had to start some time, and your writing is no worse than most and a damn sight better than some.
Welcome to the League of TUGwriters.

:spank;
I agree completely. don't beat yourself up: In life you'll find enough people willing to do that for you :mouthopen: :P
The "train of thought" I'm posting is the first time in longer than I wish to remember, that these details have seen the light of day and even in the "true" section, you are allowed a little poetic license.
The best way to improve your writing is exactly the way you are doing it: reread what you have written, sit on it for a few days, make revisions as needed, sit on it, reread for final approval and if not to your goal standards, go to step one, if it says what you want in the way you are happy with, publish it :!: :wink:

May your TUGS always be just short of "too much."
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby drawscore » Sat Apr 12, 2014 10:50 am

Writing is an acquired skill. Like any other acquired skill, it takes practice. The more of it you do, the better you get at it.

If you are uncomfortable with your own writing, contact someone you know or trust, and who has a strong command of the English language, to proofread your stories, check for continuity, and make or suggest corrections. A good proofreader can make a lousy writer look like Shakespeare or Hemingway.

Drawscore

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 11:10 am

drawscore wrote:Writing is an acquired skill. Like any other acquired skill, it takes practice. The more of it you do, the better you get at it.

If you are uncomfortable with your own writing, contact someone you know or trust, and who has a strong command of the English language, to proofread your stories, check for continuity, and make or suggest corrections. A good proofreader can make a lousy writer look like Shakespeare or Hemingway.

Drawscore


Aren't both of them dead?

(Sorry - it was too good to pass up)

Other than the deceased part, I also agree completely.
You've received a lot of good advice already --- now put it to practice so we can enjoy it with you, OK?
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 6:59 pm

Kinda embarrassed to say now: I'm in college, still just getting general stuff done, but I was thinking of majoring in English or journalism. I'm not set on that yet, so if my writing starts to suck, it'll be because I just said screw it and I'll write what I FEEL like writing :)

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 8:08 pm

2. Starting a Long Series of Games

This is mostly a single memory, with some other times and "poetic license" like one of you said added in. I've been trying to decide if it's best to put out the best stories, or to go in chronological order. I decided on order; this one is more intro to how many of our games went, but not really a great story. I hope it helps set the back story when I get to the better ones.

My cousin Chance is six years older than me, and his brother Tyler is my age. (Chance isn't the older cousin in Part 1, but Tyler is the other one in that story.) Me and Tyler were best best friends growing up (and still close, just not as close as we used to be). We have a close family anyway, but with three sisters, I really NEEDED to be close to my male cousins, so I remember spending a lot of time at their house.

Probably near the time of my first story, or maybe as much as a year later, my cousin Chance started getting obsessed with everything about cops, police, military, etc. He made up his mind then he was going to be a cop when he grew up (and he is, but he lives in another state now, so I don't talk to him much anymore). That means, of course, that Cops and Robbers became a favorite game. With Chance and some of his buddies, it was big kids versus little kids (me and Tyler) all the time. From a kid's point of view, this was great! It doesn't matter if we were the captured ones more often. It's not like my sisters would play something like cops and robbers, at least not as "tough" or "real" as Chance would make it!

People on this board might be shocked: Tie ups were not the first things we thought of. There were cap guns and maybe a fake badge, but in the first games, we just took prisoners to a place like the back porch and called it jail. But that didn't last too long. After a while, Chance decided to lock prisoners up in a "cell"-- it was a shed out in the back yard that had a door with a padlock. At some point, everybody spent time in that jail, sometimes just with the lock in the slot but not closed, but still no one inside could ever get out.

Kid's point of view: again, this was awsome! I might have been 6 or 7, but I wasn't really scared of anything, and just liked playing the game. And I thought more "real" stuff was way better than pretend stuff, so having a locked "jail" was far better than just sitting on the porch and pretending you couldn't move.

Awesome. Until the first game of summer. Chance and Tyler had a bunch of friends over, so there was a big game. We mixed up ages on teams. Me and one of Chance's friends got caught first, and thrown in the shed, door locked. It was beyond hot in there! Back then I never could have guessed that someone could die from that much heat, but today I realize how stupid it was to do that. Don't worry, we weren't in there long at all, released after maybe just two minutes. That was enough to tell everyone else that the shed was just off limits.

That's when it was decided. And I don't know if it was Chance or one of his buds, but it's when cops and robbers turned to tugs. Chance got a couple of pieces of ropes, gave them to the cops team, and said, "OK, cops, these are your handcuffs. When you capture a robber, you can handcuff him with this, and then bring him to the porch and tie him to the rail for jail."

More awesome! We had to give up a locking jail "cell," but having handcuffs--even if it was just rope--added to that realism I really liked. I had a buddy there who seemed to be all scared of it, "Oh, crap, we're gonna get tied up!" But after the game I think he was ok with it.

I didn't pay a lot of attention to others getting caught. I wasn't "into" tugs, I was just playing a game. I did get caught that day. Another one of Chance's friends caught me and tied my hands behind me. (Probably a good thing it was a big kid, cause nobody my age could tie a rope, seriously. I tried tying someone, and the rope just about fell off on its own!) He walked me around to the porch. It really was like being led by a cop. Of course I tried to break away, but he had my arm good. At the porch he untied my hands, put my hands around the rail in front of me, and tied them again. He tied good, I sure couldn't get out (but my escape skills were about the same as my tying skills). A friend tried to break me out of jail, but couldn't get the knot undone in time without getting caught; he had to run for it. So I was prisoner for about ten minutes maybe, and it ended with me thinking it was a fun game. I don't think anybody complained. So cops and robbers was played often from that time forward.
Last edited by EricU1845 on Sat Oct 01, 2016 4:23 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 9:26 pm

You're getting the hang of it. Just keep writing and reviewing your own work a few weeks later to see where you might want to improve. The important thing is to paint a picture in the reader's mind with words (that is a tip --- now do something with it) You'll be very good if you keep after it. looking forward to your product.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Sun Apr 13, 2014 4:06 am

I agree with Tony but would counsel against introducing your work by lowering people's expectations. I know there's danger of being seen to have feet of clay if you puff turkey but have faith in your stories. You have said that this episode serves a purpose and that i good enough to justify its inclusion in the entirety.

I especially echo Tony's recommendation to re-read after a few weeks. Look at my submission, http://tieupgames.net/viewtopic.php?f=37&t=22305 . That was written, roughly edited and posted inside two hours just for the sake of dong so. Just scanning it quickly after it was posted, I found about six "routine" errors and one serious one. I might get round to editing it today.

PS watch the use of "Me" instead of "I" if you take out the other person from the sentence, does it still make sense?

Yours in pedantry,
Xtc
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but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Tue Apr 15, 2014 4:34 am

Wow thanks. It looks like a lot of people here are good about positive comments. Actually I knew about I and ME, but a lot of people talk that way, so I wanted to write where it sounded more everyday. I actually had and English teacher who told me I should do that sometimes! I know, it's bad grammar. So what's better for this audience? Better grammar, or more common?

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Tue Apr 15, 2014 5:41 am

EricU1845 wrote:Wow thanks. It looks like a lot of people here are good about positive comments. Actually I knew about I and ME, but a lot of people talk that way, so I wanted to write where it sounded more everyday. I actually had and English teacher who told me I should do that sometimes! I know, it's bad grammar. So what's better for this audience? Better grammar, or more common?


The american author e.e. cummings wrote in a chain of thought style and in fact never used cap letters. He was famous in his day. What your teacher was referring to was using the local language patterns where it is for effect. But use them only where it amplifies the situation. Skim read Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain for some examples.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Tue Apr 15, 2014 5:42 am

Personal opinion:
In narrative, more formal grammar avoids confusion.
In direct speech, colloquial expressions are usually more appropriate.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby FelixSH » Wed Apr 16, 2014 6:30 am

Nice continuation. Don´t worry about writing short stories with only little action - I at least like to know how everything started. These "less important" stories add detail to your memories. This is a general thing: Don´t be afraid of putting details into your stories, even if they aren´t totally necessary. They bring your world to life. (That´s not to say what you wrote up to now is lacking in detail. Just something I thought is worth pointing out)

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Wed Apr 16, 2014 8:24 am

FelixSH wrote:Nice continuation. Don´t worry about writing short stories with only little action - I at least like to know how everything started. These "less important" stories add detail to your memories. This is a general thing: Don´t be afraid of putting details into your stories, even if they aren´t totally necessary. They bring your world to life. (That´s not to say what you wrote up to now is lacking in detail. Just something I thought is worth pointing out)


Hear, hear! cheers

We could do with a "clapping"icon.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Fri Apr 18, 2014 8:26 pm

I just finished the next story. I was busier with work and school this week, and ended up writing MORE, writing kinda helped get my mind off of everything else. I had no idea I wrote as long as I did. Anyway, I definitely wanted to work on "painting a picture," and I feel really good about this story :)

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Fri Apr 18, 2014 8:27 pm

Chapter 3a: Real Police Use Real Gear -- Handcuffs


My cousin Chance decided that he loves cops, police work, police equipment, etc. We started playing cops and robbers on a regular basis (not every time I was at his house or that he came to my house, but three or four times per month wouldn't be a bad guess. That's not counting however many games he played with his brother Tyler or other friends when I wasn't around.) I guess it was just a matter of time before Chance began collecting police gear.

I don't know if it's like this in other countries, but we have flea markets where people get together to sell a variety of stuff, but certain things are always there: tools, old coins, clothes . . . And there's always somebody selling knives, swords, and usually police gear like handcuffs. Chance and his dad (my uncle Bill) go sometimes for other things, but one day Chance (about age 12?) was at the booth looking over the police gear, telling his dad,"I gotta get some handcuffs like that. That would be great for cops and robbers."

Uncle Bill didn't think that was a good idea. "That's a little too dangerous for you to mess around with. If you and your friends lose the key, you'll be in a real mess." Chance kept trying, but dad had ruled. He settled for buying a cheap pair of handcuffs at a toy store, one that has the emergency release on the sides so you can get out without the key.

For me and Tyler, that made the game more interesting. We definitely thought that Chance's police stuff was cool, so handcuffs were a great addition to cops and robbers. Of course, we were around seven years old, which means I was a huge cheater! It didn't take long at all to figure out the switch, and then escape when no one was looking, or even escape while still being led by a captor (just to immediately get tackled again)! Eventually, I wanted to "play right" and pretend I couldn't escape. Tyler was a bigger cheat than me, though; he got out at every opportunity!

I'd love to tell you a lot of stories of fun cops and robbers games with that set of handcuffs. Unfortunately, you get what you pay for. After a couple of months, they broke! Chance was apparently doing some kind of test to see how strong they were; the chain popped off of the base of the cuff. Sure, that was disappointing, but he soon bought another pair just like them. Believe it or not, after a couple of months or so, they JAMMED! Stuck in the locked position! Luckily, not while someone was wearing them!

So, honestly, Chance had bad luck with buying cheap toy handcuffs. After using them, I actually hated playing without them; it added to the realism so well. But if we didn't have two broken pairs, what followed a few days after may never have happened....


Chapter 3b: Real Police Gear -- Handcuffs That Don't Suck

I was 8 (?). I loved spending time at my cousins' house any chance I got. We went to the same church (Uncle Bill is the pastor), so every 2 or 3 weeks we'd convince our parents to let me go to their house on Sunday afternoon instead of going home, and my parents would get me at church that night. My aunt and uncle would take us out to eat, then to their house. Tyler and Chance changed out of their dress clothes. It usually wasn't planned, and I didn't bring clothes, but Tyler and I were very close in age and size; we borrowed each other's clothes a lot. Most of the time Tyler and I just put on gym shorts, no shirts or shoes, ready to run around the house or yard . . .

. . . or, like this particular day, run down to the living room, sit in front of the tv, and play video games. (Sometimes we were more active, but sometimes just pure lazy.). Chance played too sometimes, but not today, "I'm waiting for Jason to come over," he said, referring to his best friend. Jason got there a few minutes later, and they went outside; we just kept on with the video game.

After a while, they came back in, and Chance asked Tyler, "Where's the rope we use to tie people's feet up in cops and robbers?" I glanced over and saw Jason holding one of the ropes we used for "handcuffs" in the game. Tyler never looked up; he just answered, "I think it's on the closet floor in my room." Chance and Jason went upstairs.

About a minute later, they were back. Chance said, "Want to see our dungeon?"

I didn't take my eyes off the screen (you just don't stop in the middle of a game!), but that still sounded like one of the coolest things ever to an eight-year-old. Tyler and I both said, "Yeah!"

Tyler had just lost his last life in the game, so he got up to talk with them, and I kept playing. "You made a dungeon?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, but the only way you get to see it is if you're our prisoner." They held up the ropes, like a question, asking us how bad we wanted to see it.

"No, come on, I want to see it first."

"Nope, you get to experience it, then you'll know what our dungeon's like."

My eyes were still fixed on the screen, but I spoke up, "I want to see it, too."

Jason said, "You can only lock up one prisoner at a time. So keep playing your game if Tyler wants to go first." Fine with me.

Tyler huffed, "I just want to see it, you can even put me in, but don't tie me up for it, just show me."

Chance didn't give a bit. "Tough, prisoner or nothing."

Tyler didn't say another word, and curiosity won out. He just turned around and put his hands behind him, ready to be tied.

Chance said, "Awesome. Don't worry, you'll like it. You won't escape, either." He just had to say that. They always know what piques a kid's interest. I came so close to actually pausing the game!

I was only watching out of the corner of my eye, but Jason tied Tyler's hands behind him, and Chance tied the rope on his feet. That "foot rope" was a little thicker than the rope we used on hands, and just the right length. You could wrap each end a couple of times around an ankle, tie it off, and have several inches in between. Just like legcuffs police use, it's perfect for a prisoner that needs to walk, but they can't break away suddenly and run.

Chance said, "And you gotta be blindfolded." I didn't notice until then that he had one of his t-shirts in hand. Rolled up, a t-shirt makes a great blindfold.

"Aw, come on!" Tyler backed away and sat on the couch.

"No blindfold, no dungeon." Tyler was ok with being tied in cops and robbers, but more nervous about blindfolds. "I promise it's safe. I just don't want you to see the secret until you're safely locked up." Tyler gave in and stood up; Chance wrapped the t-shirt around his eyes and tied it behind his head.

Chance held Tyler's arm and walked him toward the door. Going out, he said, "Stay here and don't peek; it'll be your turn in a few minutes." More anticipation, yay!

I really was engrossed in the game. I didn't bother looking out the window to see where they were going. But after a few minutes, I lost my last life, and turned the game off. At that point, peeking seemed like a great idea. But I was too late; out the window, I saw Chance and Jason walking toward the house, carrying the ropes, but no Tyler. Now the curiosity was really starting to kill me! I had about a minute before they came in, so I made a quick trip to the bathroom. There was no way they would ever fall for the let-me-out-I-gotta-pee trick, even if it wasn't a trick!

They were in the living room when I came out. No questions this time; they shoved me (not seriously) into the wall front first, and pulled my hands behind me and started tying. "Ok, I said I wanted to go!"

"I know, just making sure you don't back out," said Jason.

My hands were back to back, and the rope was just wrapped around several times, then a couple of times around the middle to cinch it. They do that in cops and robbers when arresting someone, cause it can be untied quickly when you get to "jail." They put more knots in and wrap it a different way if they're trying to keep somebody tied a long time.

I got the same treatment as Tyler with the leg rope and the shirt as a blindfold. "March," said Chance, leading me to the door. There was enough slack in the leg rope so walking wasn't a problem, except there are steps from their back porch (more like a deck) to the ground, so I had to take them one at a time.

I could still tell where we were going, though. I was being led behind the garage. (Uncle Bill had a big garage or shop not connected to the house, a little ways further down the driveway.). We walked to the back side of the building and stopped. Chance was talking to Jason: "We can let him out now." But Chance was still holding on to my arm. I could hear Jason walk a few steps and do something; he was letting Tyler out, not me.

I really had to know what was going on. "Tyler, what did they do?"

Chance said, "We made him promise not to say anything. You gotta find out the same way he did." Dang, more waiting. Jason walked back over to us. "Ok, turn around, and back up slowly." They each had an arm and guided me so my back was against the wall of the garage.

Then the rope around my hands started coming off. They each took a hand, pulled it up and out to the sides, and at the same time I felt a handcuff close around each each wrist. "Two sets of handcuffs? That's so cool!"

I knew right where I was now. The back side of the garage has a couple of windows with security bars on them (looked kind of like a jail window!). I was standing between the windows, and they were close enough together that I could be cuffed with one hand to each, not stretched out too far, a little above shoulder height. Feet still tied, too. It really was a lot like a dungeon, like those pictures with chains hanging on the walls (except I wasn't hanging off the ground!).

That was fun; an authentic (in my childish mind) dungeon! "Ok, how long do I have to stay?" Tyler was locked up ten to fifteen minutes, so I was betting my stay would be just as long.

Nobody said anything right away. Then Jason said, "Try to get out."

There was plenty of slack for me to reach up with one hand to the cuff attached to the nearest bar. I felt the cuff, and tried to press the release switch. I kind of got a lump in my throat when I didn't feel a switch at all! I said, "These are REAL handcuffs?!" I rarely cuss, but in my head I was saying, "O f----!" Not that I was scared; I knew nobody would hurt me or leave me forever. It was more excitement than anything.

"Yep, you're not getting out of those." That of course just made me struggle more. But clearly there was no way to slip out. And clearly there was no switch. So he was absolutely right: no way out.

"Let me see them." I still had the blindfold on, and my hands were far enough way I couldn't touch it at all. And my shoulders were stretched enough that I couldn't shrug it off either. They got quiet. They were still there, but didn't answer. "Come on, let me see."

"Can't do nothing about it, can you?" Finally, Tyler said something. I could "hear" him smiling about it. I'm sure it was very satisfying seeing me get the same treatment that he did.

I just hung there for a while; I gave up on moving around because I knew it was useless. After a minute or two, Chance removed the blindfold. Crap, the sun was bright after that. It took another minute of squinting before I could really see anything. I stared at my hands and at the cuffs, just examining, wondering how they worked. Even though I was prisoner, I thought the handcuffs were very cool, and I would want to play cops and robbers with them. But I knew I'd have to finish my fifteen minutes or so before I could get a closer look at them.

"I'm going inside," Tyler said, starting to walk away. I don't blame him; he was stuck there a long while, and that spot is halfway in the shade but half sun, and it was hot.

Chance said, "Yeah, we'll be back in a little bit."

"No, don't leave me!" Again, I knew I was safe, but just a little scared that time.

"You're fine, and it's only fair, we left Tyler a couple of minutes." They walked off, leaving me to stand there unable to move much at all. I was alone with my thoughts. Today, I've learned to really enjoy those moments of quiet while tied up, but it was a little harder back then. Not so bad that I complained, though. A part of me still WANTED it, wanted to be a part of the game, even as a prisoner.

I wish I could remember all of the many thoughts I had while chained up alone in the dungeon. It kinda wears you out standing in one place with your arms up a long time (and it wasn't really that long, not like real dungeon torture). I was released, and we all went inside to cool off.

Sitting in the living room, Tyler and I got to look at the cuffs up close and play with them, learning how to use the key, the double lock, etc. Both pairs were Smith and Wesson 100. Chance had a black pair, and Jason had silver. But didn't Uncle Bill say handcuffs were "too dangerous"?

It turns out, getting real cuffs was Uncle Bill's idea! Chance had taken the jammed toy cuffs to him and asked if he could fix them. They were beyond repair. Seeing how easily the toys could break or jam, and how someone could literally get stuck in them, he said, "You know, if you really want to play cops like this, I think you need some higher quality handcuffs. That sounds LESS dangerous, as long as you and your friends can always keep the keys safe and not do anything dangerous with them." Saturday, the day before the dungeon story, Uncle Bill took Chance to a flea market, and Jason got to tag along. Bill bought the handcuffs for Chance, and Jason bought his own pair. Cops and robbers was never the same :)
Last edited by EricU1845 on Fri Sep 05, 2014 4:27 am, edited 9 times in total.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Fri Apr 18, 2014 9:17 pm

cute story ---well told.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Sat Apr 19, 2014 2:17 am

I meant to write in that post before the story: you should probably ignore the ages in the last two chapters. Now that I've started making myself remember more, and actually writing it down, I think I'm remembering some things wrong. I know minor details don't matter for storytelling, as long as it's believable, but since it's a TRUE story, I don't want people coming back and saying, "Wait, you said this, then you said that. You liar!" Anyway, chapter 3 may have happened even earlier, closer to me being 6 or 7, I said 8 in the story. 8 still might be right. I hate not getting that part right, it seems important. Hopefully just to me.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Sat Apr 19, 2014 11:14 am

You can always edit the tales as things become clearer in your memory.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Sun Apr 20, 2014 8:00 am

don't worry, we haven't been able to hook up the internet lie detector to your keyboard yet. just enjoy writing and correct it later if you wish.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Thu Apr 24, 2014 8:44 pm

Chapter 4: A Love/Hate Relationship with Tugs

This is one of those stories that I think I really hated at the time, but now that I'm into tugs, it's one of my favorite memories looking back at it. This one is also a little more definite in my memory. In fact I could look up the exact date if I needed to. It was the day my cousin Tyler had surgery. He has a genetic problem (I don't know the medical names) and has worn a hearing aid most of his life, but it never meant treating him any differently. With the aid, he could hear as good as anybody. But along the way, there was one major surgery that was supposed to help. It was the summer when we were both 10 years old.

On the day of Tyler's surgery, both of my parents went to the hospital to be with him and his parents, and a few other family members too. His brother Chance was 16, and decided not to go hang out at the hospital all day long; it's just a lot of waiting, so you can't blame him for that. My parents decided that I didn't need to be there all day waiting, either, and nobody else was going to be home at my house. That means that Chance automatically got volunteered to be my babysitter!

Now Tyler was my best friend in the whole world, and I cared a lot about what happened to him. On the other hand, I also didn't want to be at the hospital for the whole day. Besides that, Chance was the older brother I never had. (I have three older sisters, and that's not the same thing at all!). I looked up to him, and I really wanted his friendship, his approval, etc. Definitely, overall, he liked me and was good to me. But there were times, especially when Tyler wasn't around, that I tried way too hard.

All of that is the long way of saying that I could be a pretty bad kid! Age ten was one of my worst years, just being a pain to everybody. I know that now. I didn't see it then, even when it got me into trouble.

My parents took me to his house early that morning (7:00, 8:00?). Tyler and his parents were already gone very early that morning, so they just dropped me off quickly and went on. I'm pretty sure it was mid-July; I wore an under armour sleeveless shirt and shorts, and flip flops. I left the flips at the door (didn't need them even when we went went outside), and in less than five minutes the shirt came off.

I sure can't remember all the crap I pulled. I'm sure I argued a lot, bothered Chance when he wanted to be alone, went to his room and messed with all his stuff. I didn't know it then, but I was probably pretty hateful, and way disresepctful of other people's things.

It wasn't long after lunch, and Chance really wasn't paying much attention to me, and I was pestering him, just trying to get a rise out of him. He stormed off and locked himself in his room a few minutes. Of course I knocked a bunch, but gave up and went to find something on tv. Just a few minutes later he came out with a cap gun and said, "Cops and robbers?" Heck yeah! I jumped up, grabbed the gun, and ran out the back door. I expected I was the robber, and he'd give me a couple of minutes to hide. No, really, I didn't connect this game with anything that happened earlier in the day! I thought he just wanted to play. I was that dumb.

I ran to the back of the yard, which was pretty big, so quite a distance from the house, and hid behind a shed. I just got on the ground a minute, waiting, then heard the door to the house open and close. Chance was outside, and the hunt was beginning. I didn't peek around any corners at first, just stayed down and hid. A couple of minutes passed, and I heard footsteps around the garage, maybe 20 yards away. Before I could see him (and he could see me), I slid around to the side of the shed to stay hidden, waited for him to be completely behind the garage, then ran to a new place.

This kind of cat and mouse game went on 5-10 minutes, when I saw him in front of me at a distance. I shot, then ran. Over the years, we played with a variety of rules, like getting shot means you're dead, or getting shot means you're captured, or it could mean being injured, like you have to pretend you lose an arm or leg. (This works way better with paintball, where everyone can see where you got shot.). I can't remember what our rules were for this game. I just knew, as robber, I had to keep running and not get caught. So I shot and ran and didn't look back.

I ran around the house to the front, then had THE decision, the one I faced many, many times during chase games. Is he following me, so I should keep going? Or is he going to try to cut me off, so I should turn around and run the way I came? I chose to backtrack, a little. I came to the side of the house next to the air conditioner so I could duck behind it. While I was standing there, the a/c came on. Great; that meant I couldn't hear anything.

I chose right, but waited too long. He came up behind me, and I almost didn't hear him. I yelled "no!" as I tried to turn and run, not even thinking about my gun. After all, it was pretty much over at that point. He stuck his gun against my back, and I froze.

"Drop the gun! Put your hands on your head!" I followed Chance's orders. I was also old enough now to try to follow the rules, like not run away when a gun is pointed right at you. I set my hands on top of my head. Then I heard the sound of handcuffs clinking together. I totally expected that, of course. We play cops and robbers knowing that players get arrested.

Like a real cop does (to the best of our knowledge--which is just what we see on tv), Chance slapped a cuff around one wrist. Then he pulled both hands down and behind me, and cuffed the other hand. I was locked in police chain handcuffs, and Chance held my upper arm firmly to lead me away, except for a pause to pick up my weapon off of the ground.

"Man, I didn't hear you at all." We sometimes talked about the last play, but sometimes Chance liked to be a no-nonsense tough cop. He wasn't in a talking mood today; he didn't respond. He led me through the back yard, past the patio which had a rail that we sometimes used for "jail." We walked past the garage where the "dungeon" from the last story was. He kept me going further out from the house, toward a tree line in the back that separated the back yard from a field.

We walked right up to a tree before he dug the key out of his pocket and let one of my hands out. "Hug the tree." Wow. We'd never done that before. My mind was swimming with wonder, trying to figure out how this would play out. But I loved cops and robbers, so I was willing to try.

The tree was big enough that my arms could reach all the way around and my hands touch comfortably, but not with a lot of room left over. He locked the open handcuff back on my wrist, and then set the double locks to keep the cuffs from tightening. Well, it was a new sensation, but I thought it was pretty cool. I mean, I was screwed! I wasn't going anywhere, and I didn't have a lot of room to move around, but since the game is cops and robbers, I was definitely a prisoner. Thus, it was cool.

"Ah, crap. This is a good jail. I can't do crap."

"Good." I still wasn't catching on to how ominous he was sounding. But Chance started backing up. "Now you can't mess up anything. Now I'm going inside, and it's going to be quiet in there, and I can watch what I want to watch on tv, and you can be out here and make as noise as you want and not break anything!" (Yeah, I'm pretty sure I broke something of his that day, too. So, he was definitely pissed.) He turned his back and walked toward the house.

I didn't say anything. What could I say? Anyway, I knew he was just trying to scare me and wouldn't really leave me alone. I rotated myself around the tree trunk so I could see the house, and I watched him walk in and close the door. Then it was just a matter of time; he HAD to come let me out.

I waited a long time. Very long. He was that pissed, and this was his way of getting away from me for a while. Or it was revenge. Or punishment. I'm not sure which way he saw it. But I started to get worried, of course. I couldn't yell for help; there were no neighbors close enough to hear. Even if there were, they might have thought we were just playing a game (wasn't it still a game?), because we do it so often. So if I couldn't call for help, and I couldn't move . . . what?

I had no way of telling time. Just waiting and more waiting. It was a physical challenge. I like challenges, but this was intense. Here's all the things I can remember.

My arms got sore, of course, but it was actually the smallest problem I had, which surprised me. Even though my arms were pretty much out in front of me and couldn't be lowered much, my hands rested against the tree, so there wasn't a lot of stress on the arms. A little on the wrists; even without struggling and trying to relax, there's still some pressure every time I moved a bit. But that wasn't bad either.

My legs hurt more than I thought they would. I did a lot of running and biking, so they usually don't bother me but standing up straight and facing a tree meant that I didn't have much place to move my legs around. They actually got more sore than my arms.

The bark was rough and very irritating. Like I said, I didn't have to hug the tree tight, but there still wasn't a whole lot of space. Plus there was no shirt to be a barrier between the bark and my skin. So I couldn't help but rub up against the tree anytime I tried to move around it. I got quite a few scrapes; nothing bloody or severe, but noticeable. Scrapes occurred all over my arms and chest.

And most of all, the temperature. This was July, and Tennessee is known for high temperatures and high humidity. And personally, I'm very hot natured (meaning that I feel hot all the time anyway. Not just a little. Mom says I'm way over the range of "normal" hot natured people.) So the summer sun was a lot to handle, even though I had some shade. (There were peeks of sun, so that's part of the reason I kept moving around the tree, trying to keep the sun off of one place for too long.). So despite the scrapes, I felt better without the shirt. I probably would have overheated in it.

I didn't know it then, but he left me for 30 minutes. I didn't freak out, but I can't say I didn't get kinda scared. I didn't cry or anything. Just started to feel bad. I was pretty glad to be let out. Chance unlocked the handcuffs, and I just kind of sat straight down. He didn't apologize. He asked if I was ok. I was . . . I mean, I didn't need medical attention or anything. But I didn't really want to talk. He let me sit a while and said, "We need to go inside and get you some water."

I didn't want to move either but I knew I needed it, and water sounded good. I stood up and walked pretty slow, and he walked right beside me. Inside I drank as much water as I could comfortably, and laid down in the middle of the living room floor under the ceiling fan. By that point, that was an awesome feeling! I fell asleep right there on the floor, and slept over an hour.

I really did feel almost back to normal after that nap. Muscles were still sore and a little weak, but nothing really bothered me. Chance was in there with the tv on. I just watched what he was watching. Never talked.

When my parents came to get me (earlier than we were expecting, before dinner), I didn't say a thing about it. I never told them or Chance's parents about being locked up so long. Without saying anything, we just put it behind us; we rarely ever mentioned it even to each other. Dad did ask me how my chest got all scraped up . . . and I bet Chance was scared I would throw him under the bus. I just told them I was climbing a tree. It was kinda true.

I meant what I said in the first paragraph. It's actually one of my favorite memories! It just wasn't a favorite when it happened :)
Last edited by EricU1845 on Fri Jul 11, 2014 4:07 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Fri Apr 25, 2014 1:08 am

Keep up the good work.
There are other writers who could learn from the way you tell a story and not simply relate a list of the things that happened.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby EricU1845 » Fri Apr 25, 2014 3:13 am

It's funny how I can proofread the whole thing at midnight, and proudly post a story; then check back in the morning, and find more than ten things that need to be changed! I just made minor edits. I hope everyone likes it :). Thanks, XTC. You're too kind :)

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby xtc » Fri Apr 25, 2014 4:27 am

It's almost impossible to proof-read one's own stuff. We write it and, when we try to do so, we read what we THINK we wrote and not what we actually wrote. I always (nearly!) write, leave it, read it, leave it, re-read it and then I might post.

As a little demonstration of what happened to me the last time I wrote and then posted almost immediately, I needed to make fourteen changes into the short story, http://tieupgames.net/viewtopic.php?f=37&t=22305 and that's about one change for every 177 words!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Fri Apr 25, 2014 4:38 am

xtc wrote:It's almost impossible to proof-read one's own stuff. We write it and, when we try to do so, we read what we THINK we wrote and not what we actually wrote. I always (nearly!) write, leave it, read it, leave it, re-read it and then I might post.

As a little demonstration of what happened to me the last time I wrote and then posted almost immediately, I needed to make fourteen changes into the short story, http://tieupgames.net/viewtopic.php?f=37&t=22305 and that's about one change for every 177 words!


Keep talking like that and others will start believing you're human!
(but you're right. Another tool to use is to read what is on the page out loud --- sometimes the ear will catch what the eye misses).
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby FelixSH » Sun Apr 27, 2014 8:37 am

Uncle Bill sounds like a cool guy. Not everyone would buy real handcuffs for his kids to play with (or even approve of this type of game).
Anyway, nice new chapters. I really enjoy the atmosphere you create.

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Re: Eric's tug history

Postby tony2 » Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:41 am

Uncle Bill is absolutely right. If you are going to be involved with handcuffs spend $25 or so and get a professional set. The toy ones do jam and sometimes have to be cut off --- not good if you're on a camp-out. Also with real ones there is the inevitable moment when you or a buddy will put them both on the same wrist together. here is the danger (funny as hell if it isn't you it is happening to though) they can get put on where the keyholes are facing each other --- like in the middle of that steel sandwich ---no way to get to the keyhole (practice saying, "Aw Gee, I don't know where these came from". You may need to have that down pretty well so you can say it with a straight face.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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