Solitaire

I grew up playing cards. When I was seven years old, I sat at Grandma's feet and she taught me the art of solitaire. Oh, I loved playing solitaire hour after hour after hour. Initially, I would play a hand and give the cards to Dad who would shuffle for me as my hands were too small to manipulate the cards. But by the time I was about ten years old, I learned to shuffle effectively. And then when I was about twelve or so, my cousin and I played a game together, and she could do the bridge after each shuffle. Oh my word! How did you do that? I asked, astounded. And so, she did her best to teach me. And being a bit obsessive in the world of cards, I practiced and practiced...and it wasn't long before the bridge was a natural part of the shuffle.

Over time, I learned several different forms of solitaire, and so, when life was slow and there wasn't much to do, I'd grab a deck of cards, find a corner, and play away. I had a progression of games that I worked my way through: 7 pile solitaire, the pyramid, the clock game, one hand solitaire, the color game...I'm sure those aren't the actual names of those games, but those were my titles. Over and over and over again. I could entertain myself for hours.

And then there was Rook. On Saturday nights, friends would come over to my grandparents' home and they would circle around the table for a raucous game of Rook. Because the world of cards fascinated me, I would pull up a chair beside my dad and watch him play, study his game plan, ask him questions about why he did what he did. I don't remember ever being taught to play Rook--it's almost like I was born knowing the rules to that game.

My grandpa used to say You're going to wind up in Vegas someday, Vonda.

Recently, I found out about a Rook tournament that was being hosted at my friend Erin Miller's home. That would be fun, I thought. I mean--I'm genuinely not a great Rook player in terms of being cut-throat. But I know the rules of the game. I get how to win a hand and I can shuffle. I'm not so hot at bidding--I lack confidence, I think. But that's never stopped me from playing. And so, I told Erin I would be there and Jace and I happily headed to her home, excited to meet new people and play cards with someone other than myself--or my family.

I was immediately teamed up with Ed and we sat down to play against Vito and Tony--two men who appeared more competitive than I had anticipated. If you're not having fun, Erin told me just before I sat down, let me know and we'll switch someone in for you. I know how to play but this group is too competitive for me.

I should have heeded her warning.

As I really didn't know any of these men, I only bid 50 on the first hand. A low bid is probably about 120...but I was nervous. I knew I didn't want to carry the lead. Ed looked at me: That's all you're bidding? You're not telling me anything about your hand! You didn't give me any information!

Wait. I didn't give him any information with my bid? I've played Room for years with my dad as partner, and I often don't bid. Dad never cares. He just bids away, takes the lead, and away we go into winning history. My bid matters?

After we played the first round, Tony said, Why did you play ___? That was the wrong move. Your partner was looking for points. Why didn't you play points?

I stammered. I laughed nervously. I didn't know I was supposed to play points because our competition played after me. They could have taken it--I wasn't going to gamble that they wouldn't.

Clearly I should have gambled.

On the next round, I gambled. And Ed looked at me with this look of What are you doing???????

Ok. I shouldn't have gambled.

It was my turn to shuffle. Vito handed me the deck and with a look of  Does this girl even know what a deck of cards is??, asked, "Do you know how to shuffle?"

I sighed. Yes, Vito. I know how to shuffle.

After I shuffled a solid 8 times, I began to deal out the cards. Tony had gotten up for a glass of water and as he sat back down and saw me dealing, he said, outraged, "Did you shuffle them enough?"

I looked up to answer that yes, in fact, I shuffled them 8 times and a perfect number of shuffles is, in fact, 7, so I am an overachiever, thank you very much, when he held up his hand and said, "Please. Don't talk while you're dealing."

Clearly they were unimpressed with my ability to play cards.

After I had dealt out the cards, Tony asked Vito, "Did she even let you cut the deck?"

"No, she didn't," Vito said, matter of factly.

And that threw me over the edge. Before anyone could argue, I swooped up those cards and manipulated them back into a deck and began to quickly shuffle and then set them down in front of Vito with a sounding smack. "Cut it," I demanded.

"Don't ever do that again!" Tony cried. "You never redeal!"

And now? I am fighting the tears. Thankfully I had a cup of ice cold water in front of me so that I could swallow that lump that was growing in my throat. Clearly this was out of my league. I looked around frantically for Erin. Rescue me!" I whispered, my eyes wild.

We played one more hand, and again the men chastised my moves, admonished my choices. I kept drinking water--swallowing hard--to keep those tears at bay. They will not break me!

And just as we finished the third round, an older couple knocked on the door: Myron. I've never met Myron before, but he was my knight in shining armor. He was my savior in that moment. Myron! Please!! Come play for me!! This game is yours!

Without even giving him a chance to agree, I stood up and offered him my chair. Tony and Vito and Ed all thrust their hands out for me to shake them. We're glad you joined us, Vonda! I laughed, shook their hands, and noted to myself They are just as happy to get rid of me as I am to get rid of them.

And then, Erin and I sought refuge in a corner in her bedroom where we talked and laughed and talked some more.

It was a perfect end to my evening. It was just what I needed.

I talked to my dad the next day on the phone. Dad is an avid Rook player. He plays weekly--maybe more--at the coffee shop near his home. "Dad," I asked, "when you're playing Rook with your buddies, does it matter what your partner bids? Does that let you know whether you should take the bid?"

"Yeah," he said, laughing. "That's important."

Hm.

Clearly, I need to stick to Solitaire.