Poker Classic Disaster
Hello, Internet. How are you doing today? Did you know that I just ate two Krispy Kreme hot and fresh doughnuts? They were delicious, especially since one of them was free. Did you know that if the hot and fresh sign is on when you walk into the Krispy Kreme doughnut place beside the Wal-Mart on the street whose name I can't remember but is adjacent to Perrin-Beitel in San Antonio...did you know that they will hand you a hot and fresh doughnut for FREE? I would recommend it, Internet. It's a good deal.
This weekend a very nice man that Dominic works with invited us to his house to play poker. There were a lot of other people there, all of them very nice people who work with Dominic and most of whom will be in his nav class. It should have been good for me to finally meet some of Dominic's co-workers in a social situation. God knows, I've been fidgety enough about the act of finally befriending the people he'll be spending so much time with BUT--
I don't know how to play poker.
I don't think most normal people would feel so immediately panicked at the prospect of learning something new, something like poker, a game central to casinos where they bring you free booze as long as you're tipping, a game my brother and sister just sort of taught themselves using candy one Christmas and then taught my cousins who were, like, NINE and SEVEN at the time. I listened in on a half a game and then when I realized that the nine and seven year-olds were getting it and I wasn't I got embarrassed and left the vicinity.
See, the thing is--I'm not good at card games. In fact, I'm not good at most games in general. I have a really difficult time, first, learning all the rules (even if there aren't very many) and then, second, learning to remember all the rules. This means that if you are trying to teach me a card game you will have to explain the rules to me every single time my turn comes up to make a play. EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you will try your best to teach me, but I WON'T GET IT, and then you'll notice that my eyes look unusually bright and my cheeks look unusually red, and then you will become nervous because you will think I look like I'm about to cry and the truth is--YOU'LL BE RIGHT. I'll be crying and it will be like 3rd grade math all over again when I kept crying in class because I couldn't memorize past the seven's multiplication tables and most of the other kids were already on their TWELVE'S!
I am beginning to notice a pattern that I might as well grow accustomed to--that of being the significant other who doesn't care for sports and hates card games and wears pink a lot and doesn't understand Air Force jargon and insists upon picking up and petting any kitty cats who might be within a ten foot radius and will squeal and become suddenly elated if you have any cupcakes on hand, especially if you bought them from the grocery store and they have little plastic rings or toys pressed into their delicious iced tops. In other words, I don't have a lot in common with most of the people Dominic works with every day. I sort of expected this--don't get me wrong--but if last Friday night's Poker Classic Disaster has anything to say about my future social situation then I need to learn how to play and like Poker.
And quickly, at that.
This weekend a very nice man that Dominic works with invited us to his house to play poker. There were a lot of other people there, all of them very nice people who work with Dominic and most of whom will be in his nav class. It should have been good for me to finally meet some of Dominic's co-workers in a social situation. God knows, I've been fidgety enough about the act of finally befriending the people he'll be spending so much time with BUT--
I don't know how to play poker.
I don't think most normal people would feel so immediately panicked at the prospect of learning something new, something like poker, a game central to casinos where they bring you free booze as long as you're tipping, a game my brother and sister just sort of taught themselves using candy one Christmas and then taught my cousins who were, like, NINE and SEVEN at the time. I listened in on a half a game and then when I realized that the nine and seven year-olds were getting it and I wasn't I got embarrassed and left the vicinity.
See, the thing is--I'm not good at card games. In fact, I'm not good at most games in general. I have a really difficult time, first, learning all the rules (even if there aren't very many) and then, second, learning to remember all the rules. This means that if you are trying to teach me a card game you will have to explain the rules to me every single time my turn comes up to make a play. EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you will try your best to teach me, but I WON'T GET IT, and then you'll notice that my eyes look unusually bright and my cheeks look unusually red, and then you will become nervous because you will think I look like I'm about to cry and the truth is--YOU'LL BE RIGHT. I'll be crying and it will be like 3rd grade math all over again when I kept crying in class because I couldn't memorize past the seven's multiplication tables and most of the other kids were already on their TWELVE'S!
I am beginning to notice a pattern that I might as well grow accustomed to--that of being the significant other who doesn't care for sports and hates card games and wears pink a lot and doesn't understand Air Force jargon and insists upon picking up and petting any kitty cats who might be within a ten foot radius and will squeal and become suddenly elated if you have any cupcakes on hand, especially if you bought them from the grocery store and they have little plastic rings or toys pressed into their delicious iced tops. In other words, I don't have a lot in common with most of the people Dominic works with every day. I sort of expected this--don't get me wrong--but if last Friday night's Poker Classic Disaster has anything to say about my future social situation then I need to learn how to play and like Poker.
And quickly, at that.
posted by Kate at 7:41 PM
1 Comments:
Carrie: You can learn how to play poker, Kate, but don't ever lose your enthusiasm for the cupcakes with rings and toys pressed into the icing! Those are, like, the bomb.
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