Just One More Person


Are you ready?

One we stepped through those doors we were on, and would be on for the next three days.

What we wanted would not matter, as it was now not about us, but rather the perceived persona.

We navigated the lobby and made it halfway to the elevator banks when a group of guys noticed us and invited us over to sit in the lobby and hang out.

Dropping our bags, we followed and talked about the different factions and which one was the best.

The elevator was no different as somebody spotted and stopped us there.

We checked in at 7 PM but didn’t make it to our room by 2 AM.

It was strange sitting in the grand hall at our designated table waiting for the doors to open. Outside you could hear the crowd ramping up as the other tables around ours also checked things and prepared.

Once those doors opened.

We played game after game, when one finished the next group was already lined up for the next. Total focus and dedication, we had all come hundreds of miles for the moment of these few hours.

Dinner was at almost midnight and for every invitation we received, we directed them to the place we were going so nobody would be turned away.

Our group took over the entire room.

Every picture was a genuine smile.

Every signature one of a kind.

People seemed to remember every detail about our videos.

We made it clear everybody was part of the family.

There was always one more person, one last person, and it ended not when we wanted it to end, but when the restaurant physically kicked us out and the police on the street asked the group to move on.

Our competition, although we had no real competition, said we did it for the sales. We already had the sales online without any need to show up, sales made us money, showing up cost us money.

They only thought in terms of money.

We did it out of respect for the people who followed us, listened to us, made us a part of their lives by choosing us.

I did it because one never knows that person you meet in the moment, they could be going through some serious life shit, and in that moment, a chance to step outside of space and time, play a game, and be normal somewhere with somebody might just make a difference. 


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    Roppo Doji writes from the intersection of discipline, memory, and presence. His work explores the quiet spaces where lives touch:  the dojo at dawn, the silence between two people, the rituals that shape a path, and the moments that linger long after they’ve passed. 

    His stories move through themes of impermanence, devotion, and the beauty of connections that cannot last but still transform us. 

    With a voice marked by restraint, clarity, and emotional precision, he captures the gravity of lived experience and the subtle transmissions that occur in the spaces between words. 

    Questions, comments, feedback, flames, introductions, and inquiries may be directed to him at: