I loosen up my tie a bit; this is my time to shine. My finger hurts like hell from the right clicks of the mouse. I might be breaking a sweat… My ass has become swampy after sitting in this shitty office chair. Which I might add has less ventilation then a child with his head in a plastic bag.


The clock says I've been playing for 732 seconds. I’m too lazy to figure that out in minutes… I have to concentrate on the game… the smiley face up top is an evil son of a bitch. He's up to something; definitely out to get me. I mean what kind of person hangs around minefields. Was he the one who planted all these mines, what an evil son of a pet rock. Every time I go to inspect a space he gives me this "Ooohh I wouldn’t do that look" Shouldn’t you be busy being in a pop up ad? What a douche knocker…


I’ve seen this pattern before. 2-3-2, easy peasy. Is that all you got? I thought this was expert. I heard you could only beat this game if were in a dead end office job. Haha bitches looks like the summer intern got some game! 10 bombs left and I'm digging my way to the bottom left corner.


Couple more routine clicks… WUT THE FUCK! A SEVEN! When is there ever a seven, a six I can understand but WHY??? Shit this is bad… 8 squares left, 7 mines… that’s a 12% chance I will survive. I had a better chance coming down with Typhoid fever then surviving this minefield. I’m starting to get tunnel vision…I’ve worked to hard for this. My boxers are so wedged up; I've lost feeling in my left leg.


This is a life or death situation and putting question marks on the blocks can’t help me now. Even worse I hear someone coming toward my cubical… think quick… do I click out of minesweeper and pull up a length word document? Or do I go for glory and risk being seen as a slacker… ultimately ruining the future of my career. Fight or flight… I make a quick decision and left click the bottom corner…


The eyes my dear friend Mr. Smiley have not dawned a cool pair of shades, yet a deathly pair of X's. I have failed, all summer I have trained on intermediate to get where I am today. Blood has drained from my head and I collapse in defeat. My head hits the cold desk. Why has Microsoft forsaken me to a fate like this? Just as I had reached my lowest point… my coworker walks on by, stops and says "Minesweeper? That game for queers… dont expects to be part of the Friday Donut runs anymore."


Words by Stan Leonhart as told to Chris Daugstrup


In Memory

“You’ll always be an Expert to me.”

R.I.P Stan Leonhart

1982-2006