I Hate Shopping

If there's one aspect of roleplaying games that I intensely dislike, it's buying equipment. In general, I find it a dreary waste of time and avoid it whenever possible, both as a player and as a referee. This is especially true in the case of science fiction RPGs, where the range of potential purchases is generally vastly greater than that available in a fantasy game (though there are, of course, exceptions) – as is the pain I suffer when having to endure it. 

I was reminded of my loathing for this aspect of gaming last weekend during the latest session of the otherwise thoroughly enjoyable Traveller campaign in which I am playing. Currently, there's a slight lull in the action, as the characters prepare to leave the planet on which they've been adventuring and head off to another one. Since the planet in question is both highly populated and technologically advanced, thoughts naturally turned toward the acquisition of additional gear. This led to the majority of the evening spent with players' noses in their copies of the Central Supply Catalogue, scouring it for every last bit of equipment that might give their characters an edge in future.

I, on the other hand, spent most of the evening reading a book at my desk, waiting for the pain to end. Occasionally, a fellow player would suggest to me a piece of equipment that he thought my character ought to buy and I'd briefly look up from my book to investigate the matter in my own copy of the CSC before deciding that I lacked sufficient interest in the fine gradations of high-tech weaponry to care. Further, there's the fact that the Mongoose Traveller rules, while more than adequate to the task, have added a little more complexity to equipment statistics than I like. 

For example, a friend suggested that my character, a retired Army officer skilled in the use of heavy weapons, get a plasma gun, which first becomes available at the tech level of the planet on which we currently found ourselves. However, a plasma gun has the "very bulky" trait, which means my character must wear battle dress to use it effectively. Alas, my character lacks training in battle dress. "No problem," says, another friend, "You can add gyroscopic stabilization to the gun to reduce it to merely 'bulky,' which negates the need for battle dress in exchange for a penalty to the attack roll." I counter that penalty would negate my skill levels in heavy weapons." "True," is the reply, "but the increase in damage compared to your current weapon more than makes up for it." And so it goes throughout the night.

I don't wish to appear petulant, though I suppose that's as good a description as any of my emotional state that evening. The simple truth is that I'm rarely interested in the fine print of game statistics and games that include extensive lists of equipment necessarily add to rules complexity in order to differentiate all the new gear they introduce. That's fine for those who enjoy that sort of thing, but I've never really been one of them. It's rare, in my experience, that these subtle distinctions between types of, say, laser rifles or swords make enough difference in play to justify the extra time spent poring over books to find them. 

Perhaps there's something wrong with me, since a large number of gamers, particularly those who play SFRPGs, love their equipment listings – and indeed entire books of new equipment. I wonder if my having been introduced to the hobby through Holmes Basic, where most weapons do 1d6 damage regardless of size or cost, has warped my mind so that I don't see much value in devoting lots of time to equipment acquisition. Am I alone in feeling this way?