Bridge players will enjoy this story - very typical of many social afternoons in the suburbs
BRIDGE THAT GAP
Have you ever wondered how many cards charge hands throughout the day at the
various little green tables set up around our suburbs? The numbers must run into
millions.
I for one used to ‘bridge many gaps´ during the week. It seemed like an excellent way
to spend my time and it also exercised the small grey cells for a few hours. After all,
playing bridge is never considered a waste of time. It stimulates the brain, hands and
mouth, and the tongue benefits remarkably as it gets the chance to click rather
frequently to illustrate annoyance and frustration at the sight of adverse cards.
The game seems to have an attraction these days for the numerous grannies who
sadly have gaps galore that need filling. How fortunate then, that ‘bridging their gaps´
can in some cases be of a therapeutic nature. Few of these ladies arrive at a table
without a tale of substance to relate or a recipe to exchange. News of grandchildren
ews mostly takes preference. In between games, while dealing a hand, one often
hears remarks such as “My little Laura is so clever, she beats her own father at every
video game.’ The more thinking players naturally question Laura´s Daddy´s brain
capacity!
The game having been dealt, it continues in a more serious vein and a silence may
prevail except for the familiar sound of a hard sweet being thrown around inside a
restless granny´s jaw. The owner of the jaw emanates loud sucking sounds just to
allow variety in a somewhat boring exercise. Suddenly the sweet comes to rest in a
cheek, giving the appearance of a one-sided mumps epidemic, as she listens for her
partner´s call. If the call is good, the sweet may continue it´s journey; if the call is bad,
the sweet could be swallowed whole from fright or crunched into furious pieces never
to be sucked again. It is not unusual for grannies to return home and make hurried
phone calls to their dentists.
A couple of hours after the brain is blunted, tea is served. How welcome is the
interval. Gossip can be gossiped without interruption. News flows freely in-between
slurps. Cakes are munched, biscuits crunched and a new lightness fills the air.
Enemy cards are soon forgotten and lie scattered about the table in complete
harmony once again.
Deep sighs eventually start warming the air, a clear indication that the game must go
on. The eats have been devoured and there is little else to do. Heavy with home
baking, the dealer wearily delivers her next batch. The après thé game has a
different atmosphere. Digestions, not as healthy as they were, cause discomfort
during the second half. The following remarks are sometimes heard while calling.
“Three clubs … Oy, I shouldn´t eat asparagus with salmon.’ Or “my piles are killing
me, four diamonds.’ These remarks could also carry burping noises and plenty of
‘excuse me´s´. A marvellous opportunity to break again and discuss health and
illnesses. Advertisers should seize the opportunity for a commercial pushing
indigestion remedies at this time; it´s a captive market.
However, the ladies continue with their discomforts and their cards gaining and losing
points and tempers until the hostesses´ dinner can be inhaled, denoting home-time.
Then everyone starts gathering their wares, readying themselves for the homeward
stretch. A venue is settled for a future gathering and secret hopes that the catering
will be of a more digestible kind.
For the most part though, bridge has put an end to many a lonely hour and I wish all
those who have embarked on such a career plenty of happy cards.