Well, “kicked out” might not be the right term. I believe that the DM conspired with the other players to kill off my character. Each Saturday, there was a role-playing meet up in the cafe area of our local train station. Anyone could participate. I had sat down at a table a few weeks earlier and joined a group of older folks, one of whom had a wine skin full of liquor. I was an odd-duck, and I thought that this is what happens to odd-ducks when they get older. There was a lot of talk about Blue Oyster Cult. Anyway, during gameplay we were set upon by a band of brigands. With multiple crossbows aimed at our party, they told us not to move. There was quiet at the table and almost everyone was looking at me. My young, on the spectrum mind thought nothing of treachery, so I absent-mindedly picked up my player’s manual and flipped through the book. The DM quickly jumped on the opportunity. “Opening a spell-book, provocation,” he said. He then rolled a number of dice and told me I was hit and killed by multiple crossbow bolts. I looked around and everyone’s head was looking away. I picked up my stuff and walked away from the table. That event was one of the first times that I recognized my place as pariah. I never played another table-top game.