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Bridge Night

Its a lovely day here in Lake Annis once again so I’ve decided to slap some of the ol’ SPF 70 on my fair, rosy cheeks and click away out here lakeside. I was a wee bit tired this morning because I was up until nearly midnight (gasp) last night. Why? It was to play Bridge of course!

Marion and her adult daughter Beth have a summer home here in Mooswa and invited Alex, Alex’s mom Lisa, and me over to have some Bridge. Beth doesn’t play so she was my official interpreter. I would scribble onto my pad “2 Diamond” and she would call out triumphantly, “Billy bids 2 Diamonds!” Since there is little speaking in Bridge after the bidding ends (we shouldn’t really be talking at all but this is casual play, friends) Bridge is actually a rather good game to play whilst remaining silent.

I was a wee bit rusty but got back into form quickly. My teammate Alex (Bridge is played in two teams of two) was also playing rather well and we racked up quite a few overtricks. If any of you out there…in the dark…are bridge players let me know (comments section below – ho!) and perhaps we can organize a little game night. As some of you know, I’m also a fan of this board game, Settlers of Catan. Its quite difficult to learn, in my opinion, from the instruction book. However, its rather easy to grasp if you just do a round with someone who knows how to play already. As I know how to play, I could be the teacher. And as you don’t, you could be the student. But you know how the old saying goes: soon the student becomes the teacher. Or master. Something like that. But the point is, you could get really awesome at it and totally kick my ass off the Settlers of Catan island. Sweet!

While at Marion and Beth’s place last night, I learned that Beth at one point in her life was on a ventilator and unable to speak for three months. Yikes! Well it seemed only fitting then that between hands we commiserated about My Silent Life thus far (and by commiserated I mean she told me about her experiences and I noded sympathetically). Her much longer ordeal reminds me I have much for which to be grateful.

Something for which you all, perhaps, have to be grateful is the arrival of Friday afternoon. In case you aren’t familiar, Friday is a day of celebration for the working world. After your day of gainful employment is through, you change out of your Brioni suit or polyester high-water pants and Hanes wifebeater and head to the track to bet on the dogs. After that, you enjoy a chilled Grasshopper (or a glass of Courvoisier¬†for you klassy bitches) and shuffle on over to the Meatpacking district to continue the evening’s revelry. At some point you will vomit or slip in someone else’s, and that will be your cue to head home and rest up for a day of agony tomorrow.

For those of us on the sidelines due to injury, un or underemployment, or a debilitating trust fund, Friday is, in general, a great day to host a game night (Bridge! Settlers!) or watch those three netflix movies that have been sitting on top of the DVD player for five weeks. Out here in the sticks, going out isn’t an option so my default choice will be of the games/DVD variety. But if I were in the city, I’d probably stay in tonight anyway. Why? Because as many of you know I’m quite the bon vivant. I’m for the most part self-employed and whatnot and thus rarely have to rise with the bugler’s horn to fight another day. Instead I stay in bed late, bundled up in down comforters against the freezing blast of an air conditioner turned down to sixty-two degrees, and click away on my BlackBerry for the first hour of the day. What follows is generally a whirlwind of racing with the clock and promising all the higher powers that if the 4 train comes now, I mean RIGHT now, I swear, I will leave on time for appointments for the next week…err…day. I promise! After a long day of working my own special brand of Billy magic the troops assemble for food and cocktails, sometimes enjoying said activities late into the wee hours. Thus after a week of intense work and play I’m rarely in the mood to fight off B&Ts with my sword and dagger. Houseparty? Yes. Cocktails on my roofdeck? Indeed. Screaming, “Stoli Soda with a LEMON NOT A LIME” sixteen times over four piles of badly colored hair? I think not.

I need not, however, worry about such a quandry this week as I enjoy the lovely and cheery afternoon here. Alex made tuna melts for lunch and, frankly, who can be blue after a really good tuna melt with onion?



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