It came to my attention in a comment that I may be coming across as far more knowledgable and professional than I really am. So I reworked that post I’ve kept delaying into part of this one. I’ve also added in a couple other events making this a catalog of all those times where my brain has just plain cut out on me. Leaving me in a state of jaw dropping awe at how stupid I have just been.
… I think I may have to turn this into a series. Seriously how can one man have so much dumb.
Wait, you said cruiser?
I had just found my self a juicy little ore anomaly in an incursion zone which no other miner seemed to want to touch. I nipped back to base and grabbed a Catalyst, a Venture and some basic fittings and drones, threw the whole lot in the back of my Iteron and gleefully headed off to make some easy ISK.
I unloaded everything into a nearby starbase, fitted up the Venture and started mining away happy as Larry. After a couple of minutes along came my first rat. I switch on my afterburner and start orbiting. After clicking on the rat in overview I realise that I don’t recognise it at all. Fortunately for me it comes with a description, an unusually informative one, telling me it’s an ECM frigate. That’s pretty cool. Whats not cool is the next ~10 minutes during which I can’t lock anything and have to wait for my erratic Hobgoblin 1’s to take it out.
Frustrated but victorious I return to my mining. I have my ore hold about half full by the time the next 2 rats come along. I pause long enough to collect my drones and take a peak at the descriptions to make sure there’s not another one of those annoying ECM frigates there. Nope, good. I’ll nip back and get my Catalyst to take care of these guys. I’m in hi-sec so I don’t need to go all out on the Catalyst fit. I just throw on 7 of the biggest blasters I can use, an afterburner and a small shield booster. I rush back to the anomaly ready to riddle some rats. Arriving I lock onto the rats, engage my afterburner and move in for the kill. The next thing I know I’m taking fire and half my shield is gone in one hit.
Now while my brain has the unfortunate habit of taking unannounced holidays, it can work rather quickly when its actually online. In the time it takes me to click my shield booster I realise 3 things. The first thing I realise is that my small shield booster just isn’t going to cut the mustard. The next two things I realise in tandem. One, that’s a rather large red plus I’m attacking and two, it had told me in that lovely detailed description exactly what I was attacking.
Oh, wait you said cruiser.
As in one size larger than destroyer, right?
My bad … I go now, yes? … pls …….. pls?!?
My abbreviated internet pleading was all for naught, and I could do nothing but watch as my poor Catalyst disintegrated around me before I could warp off. Leaving me open-mouthed staring at the ruins of my ship, completely unable to come to terms with exactly how big an idiot I was.
Oh right, this isn’t Hi-sec is it?
For this little misadventure I have some excuse in that it happened in the first couple of days of me playing Eve. Then again I guess I don’t have any excuse as it came hot on the heels of losing my first ship to a lowsec jaunt. That’s right I’d decided to go to low sec … Again … After already losing one ship … Why?
Well you see I’d just discovered that they actually paid you for shooting those annoying red plus’ in asteroid belts. The only problem was they paid you a pittance for the hi-sec rats. So I thought to myself why not try the rats in that nearby 0.4 system and see how much they pay for those. It might be getter than mining all day … anything is better than mining all day.
So I jumped into a Catalyst (every time I get in a catalyst it seems like my brain just shuts down) I owned which had some guns and random modules I’d picked up from hi-sec rats, and headed of on my profiteering adventure.
After jumping through the gate I instantly warp off to a random asteroid belt. On my arrival I see another player. “Oh, he must be ratting like me.” I thought to myself and then promptly ignored him while trying to pick which asteroid belt I wanted to try next. If it had been real life I would have probably waved out the window at him or given him a friendly nod.
While I was bumbling over the overview I suddenly see a yellow box outline my fellow ratters ship. Then it hits me.
Needless to say I panic. I can’t decide if I want to engage him, run away or change my underwear. This decision was soon out of my hands as my catalyst was blown to itty-bitty pieces. I manage to warp my pod out while repeatedly banging my head on the desk punctuation each thump with. Why … You … Be … So … STUPID!
Well I hope you enjoyed the dumber side of life. Theres plenty more, but I’ve already written over 900 words so they will have to wait for the second installment.
So until next time, this is the Incompetent Capsuleer signing off.