Macho Man asks if I want lunch. I say sure. I've been inside for a long while. So we go to McDonalds.
"What have you done all day?"
"Cleaned, did some work for Mary (my autism website boss), coded, wrote about ten pages of the script for the DLC."
"How much have you sold?"
"With the bundle, maybe ________."
"And how much is the base game."
"$4.99, but that's on Steam. I get _______ from every copy sold on the Bundle, so my numbers are super skewed by now."
"So you should have ___________."
By now I know where this is going. It's a conversation we've had many times.
"Yeah, but I won't see any of that until May and June, really. Then I need to pay back Ben, then we're gonna figure out at the Post-Mortem tomorrow what to do with the rest. We're going to try to get a grant."
"Why do you need a grant?"
"What? For a shot at maybe 20k for development money?"
"Why do you need 20k for development? How much was Army?"
This guy wanted to be a programmer once. More specifically, he wanted to "make Call of Duty. Those games sell".
So basically this guy is doing three things at this point:
1) Trying to "discover" that I'm not making any money and that I have no fucking clue what I'm doing.
2) Trying to shame me for living off my mom when he lives with her and off her as well (and does WAY MORE DAMAGE to her checkbook than I ever could).
3) Trying to figure out a way in to tell me I should stop because it's not automatically making me a billionaire.
