The other day I came across a pack of brand new playing cards. Bicycle. Rider Back. The good stuff. There is something nice about a brand new pack of cards. It’s a little like new car smell, if a new car cost $1.99. When I open up a new pack of cards I also think about how nasty a deck can get. I’m not sure this is a usual reaction, but given my unique and incredibly nerdy card playing history, I can’t help myself. When I see a pack of new cards I also see a nicked up, greased up, discolored mess.
I’ve done plenty of dorky things in my lifetime. And by this I mean things that make me look ten miles away from cool. I used to make up games to play by myself when I was growing up. One of them involved throwing a tennis ball off our roof and then at my basketball net. If you happened to be strolling through the neighborhood you could have seen me running around the front yard like a wild man, throwing tennis balls off our roof. You probably would have thought, “oh look, the poor moron doesn’t have any friends.” I did have friends, though. But, sometimes we did some dorky things as a unit.
At the beginning of high school I suppose we all still had our innocence. And, apparently we also had a lot of courage, because we’d spend our entire lunch period playing cards. Sometimes we played Pinochle, which I’d say is just slightly less nerdy than playing Magic the Gathering, but what we played the majority of the time was a game called Daifugo. One of our friends introduced us to this game, and it immediately became a sensation. We played with five people and literally there would be a big rush to get to lunch so you’d have a seat to play Daifugo. We’d then spend the next 1/2 hour switching seats and merrily ignoring the judgmental gaze of what must have been horrified classmates.
Talk about girls? Sports? Actual school activities? This new fangled instant messaging thing? No, thank you. We’re going to play Daifugo. Every waking moment was about this card game. Because of that it became important to have a deck of cards at all times, but playing at lunch…you can imagine what happened to the cards. They became filthy. Just disgusting, caked with Doritos dust and whatever else we were shoving into our pie-holes. Eventually the cards would become a sticky, unshuffable mess that had the thickness of dinner plates. This set the stage of course for someone to save the day by brining in a new pack of cards. Instant hero status. And, that is why till this day when I open up a new pack of playing cards I still think about my Daifugo playing days.
Of course, what makes the story a real classic and proves this was the dorkiest thing I ever did was that I had no idea we were playing the fabled drinking game, A**hole. I couldn’t have been more clueless. When I got to college, I heard people talking about A-hole, but at first I had no idea what the game was. I was a little embarrassed. I wanted to be among the A-hole players, but at the same time I was nervous if I didn’t pick it up quickly enough, I’d look like a total fool. Finally, through some observation I realized this game with the wild deuces looked awfully familiar. This was the game of my lunchroom freshman year. After that I quickly assimilated into the A-hole culture, bringing a set of skills honed at the fiercely competitive cafeteria table. I also managed to never say, even though it crossed my mind several times, when asked if I wanted to play A-hole, “Oh, you mean Daifugo? Sure.”
Quiz of the Day: Dog Breeds. Category: Dogs > Cats. My Score: 30/36.
Since it is Monday, I’ll give you all a tip. They accept, “hot dog” so you don’t have to wrestle with the spelling of Dachs????