I used to play bridge. In fact, I was one of those crazed bridge players who would as often as not watch the dawn come up over a four-heart hand. The entire time I lived in Israel, bridge was probably our prime entertainment. There were people to whom you couldn’t talk usually, but if they played bridge, somehow, you could fit them into your social life. Mostly, you talked about bridge.
Bidding. Contracts. Great games you remembered. Hilarious games. Weird games. Bridge players have their own sense of humor that has nothing to do with anything else.
When Garry and I became a serious thing, I was appalled to discover I’d finally met a man who really — no kidding — didn’t know a diamond from a club. He had never played poker. How do you make it through basic training in the Marines without learning to play poker? At first, I hoped I might convince him to give it a try, but it was soon obvious it wouldn’t happen. Garry doesn’t play games unless they involve movie or sports trivia.
I tried playing bridge online — and in those early online days, you had to pay to play. I played bridge during lunch hour at work. But bridge requires a regular partner. One lone bridge player is like a car with three wheels. It doesn’t roll.
So, as time moved on, I gave up. I have since met other reformed bridge players and we talk, yearn, and dream of the old days. With pretzels and cards. Icy cokes and occasionally, some beer nuts.
That was the good life!