Thursday, 14 May 2009

Game night - painful and not to be repeated

The Fab-man has had a long standing poker engagment every Wednesday. It's a floating game, moving from house, to villa, to apartment at the host's whim. Yesterday's host encouraged spouses, who could play board games in the other room. A good idea, in theory.

I didn't really want to go; however, my friend Rosalie (of was already roped into going. I owe her, big time, plus I thought it might not be that bad. I was very wrong.

Picture the scene: there's a really fun poker game with the jokes and trash talk going on in the other room. Rosalie, I and the hostess are awkwardly gathered around a dining room table. Yes, that's right, just me and Rosalie, since other people were either smart enough to feign an interest in poker or just stay home. Rosalie's brought along some really good games, and I never really thought of it before, but I guess we're just "game people."

Our hostess was not a "game person." She was gracious and put on a good front, but it was very obvious that the first game we played was like water table torture to her. She admitted that she almost never played games, and in fact, really enjoyed watching TV much better.

The first game was punctuated by awkward pauses and long silences, as we taught hostess how to play. As I said, she was well mannered and polite, but it was obviously not how she envisioned her Wednesday night. Finally, when she got up, I said to Rosalie, "she hates this, let's switch games.."

"Good idea, thank you so much for coming so it wouldn't be just me!," replies my trusty companion in the social quagmire.

We switch games, with marginal success, our hostess seems to be better at faking interest, or maybe she was just hitting the rum bottle every time she got up. I know I wanted to.

At last it's break time, and we meet the rolicking, fun-loving, zany bunch who've been playing poker out on the terrace. We're noshing and mingling, and I'm staring off into space, recovering from the mindless social platitudes, when I spot host and hostess in front of the frige.

"Honey, are you having a nice time,? queries host

"No, dear, not really.." she musters (putting on her stalwart, "I will brave this thing through" face.)

Needless to say, that gave me a "get out of jail pass" (since I'm apparently a game person) to get out of there as soon as I could. Rosalie was forced to stick it out until the fun poker game broke up, apparently discussing aquariums in depth with our hostess. There's only so much I'm willing to take for a friend.

No comments: