When I was a kid, we played cards. All kinds of card games, from cribbage, to crazy eights, to canasta, to gin rummy, to "go fish," to something called "Sixty-three." I can remeber my Mom and Dad and my uncle Lionel and my Aunt Madeline playing cribbage late into the night. There would be losts of laughing and squealing (especially if my Mom and Aunt Madeline managed to "skunk" Dad and Uncle Lionel!
When I was in college, we played Hearts, then Whist, and then as juniors and seniors, Bridge was the game of choice. We weren't into booze and drugs. We were heavy into popcorn and Bridge. My two roommates and another friend of hours would play cards into the wee hours of the morning on weekends. We were junkies; right from the start when we played Whist as sophomores. Our dormitory had a "lights out at eleven" rule (Can you believe that?). Of course this was in 1965, practically the Dark Ages. (Did you see what I did there? "lights out;" Dark Ages? Never mind!)
In order to avoid getting busted for having our lights on past the curfew, we hung blankets over our windows and stuffed towels under the door to our dorm room. We would pop popcorn and drink Coca Cola and have a great time! (It was a kinder, gentler time, folks! Drugs had not yet hit our campus, and we took the "no underage drinking" rule seriously most of the time.)
I remember one Saturday night we had a rather elderly subsitute housemother who knocked on our door at 1:00 a.m. We scrambled to turn the lights out, my roommates jumped in bed, and I, with a big display of yawning and annoyance at having been awakened, answered the door. We played cards in our jammies, so I was dressed for the part as I mumbled "Yes, what do you need, Mrs. Sennett?" all the while rubbing the imaginary sleepy seeds out of my eyes.
"Do you smell popcorn?" she asked. (We were not allowed to have electrical appliances such as popcorn poppers in our dorm rooms. Heaven forbid!)
"Popcorn?" I asked, mid-yawn. "I don't think so, but then, we were asleep...there could be some somewhere, I suppose."
Mrs. Sennett (she must have been 80) stuck her head in the door. The room was pitch dark, and my roommate was snoring softly--not so softly as not to be heard, but softly enough to be convincing.
"I'm sorry I woke you, dear," Mrs. Sennett said as she closed the door quietly. We listened for her foot steps on the stairs and waited a few minutes before turning the lights back on and resuming the card game.
I still enjoy cards. Unfortunately, hubby is not a fan, so I don't play much any more. A few years ago, we went to Aruba with my son and his wife, and Eric and I played at the $2.00 minimum Blackjack table in the casino--that's the kind of big spender I am! When in Las Vegas, I wanted to play, but was lacking the confidence to do it on my own. I'm practicing, though. Maybe next time.