We Made It

I walked home yesterday afternoon after giving Stefan a big hug, knowing that our long journey of moving and re-creating Waystone has finally come to a close. There weren’t any tears or a huge wash of relief. Just the exhilaration of looking at the place for the first time without it buried under a film of drywall dust, tools, trash bags, and disassembled furniture—and the feeling of coming home.

After months of deliberation about where to move, weeks of negotiation around lease agreements and rates, countless nights quaking with anxiety, kneeling before loan officers and liquor agents, begging halfhearted building owners and city officials to let us start construction, and two incredibly frantic weeks of construction, bar installation, plumbing, electrical, and more, we’re finally ready to start rolling some freakin’ dice again.

Whether you shared in our journey by coming out to help pack, move, demolish walls, bring snacks, or paint, I’m sure you’ve been going through it, too. At a time when our world becomes ever so sharply dystopian, when we’re being hit by seasonal depression (and the regular kind), and life continues to grind away at us in all its other peculiar and banal ways, the place we’ve relied on to center ourselves has been missing.

But we made it.

There are a million things that Stefan and I still want to do or change, but haven’t been able to because of time, money, and energy. We’ve worked ourselves to the bone, and things like the sparse back bar, darkened entryway, and the noisy bathroom fan are all things we’re going to address once we’ve gotten some flesh back on us.

We will have seven years to sculpt this place into the wargaming club of our dreams. For now, we’re just excited to get everyone back in for what’s important: connecting over miniatures games, and being present with one another.

We are so excited to welcome you back. None of this would be possible without you.

All the best,
Dustin