Bridge Ahead 1/4 Mile: Bystanders Will Be PERSECUTED

Dear Diary,

Silence. Silence like you have never heard before type of silence. A silence so still, thick and heavy that you might think that someone has just di..”One no trump”. Huh? “12-14..hi dear, come sit down”, comes the whispered command from Grandma Marnie. I slink around the square, white linen cloaked, bridge table trying my darnedest to be as invisible as humanly possible (given my notoriously clumsy reputation, it was not a shock to see all players brace for impact). Each player in turn, acknowledged me with a brief nod and obligatory, half cocked smile and returned to evaluate the upcoming incursion. “How we doing Marnie, are we winning?” SHHHHHHH! “Sorry…oh I’m..” I throw my hands over my big YAP and make “kitty eyes” (learned this trick from my youngest kid who is a SHREK devotee) so that the “girls” will remember that I’m really just a sweet, naive, innocent grand-daughter (as apposed to an undercover agent sent to distract the players so that her granny can rack up all the winnings).

The game goes on and on and it’s BORING. They talk in a weird code and it’s all.. “one spade” and then the lady with the red lipstick does a front teeth wipe over with her tongue and whispers through her nose “stop; three hearts”. We move on to the player wearing the navy and maroon Burberry Classic pullover (that I would kill to have), brushing an imaginary “somethin’, somthin’” from the front of my…um HER sweater. With an almost constipated expression, she manages to choke out a…”pass”. Pass what? Tennis balls?

DING! DING! DING! Was that “unauthorized information” I just saw before me? Where’s the ref.? Burberry lady is cheating! It says in the rules, and I quote, “any extraneous remarks made during the game; any bull shwanky hand gestures or pathetic questions about bidding are grounds for A PENALTY. I’m elbowing Marnie so I can share my astute observation and doing so in such a way as to not draw attention to our side of the table. Marnie starts thunking me back with her thigh and glaring at me from underneath furrowed brows. I am totally getting reprimanded for interrupting her concentration and that is reason enough to seek the DEATH PENALTY. “Dear, why don’t you go and put together a little refreshment platter from the lobby?”

I know you’re thinking, so what? What’s soooo bad about the LOBBY? Here’s the deal..Ted is in the lobby and TED loves to talk. If I am sent downstairs I may never be seen again. Days may go by; I’ll miss pick-up and my children will be left to wander aimlessly through the school halls while waiting for their turn on the office phone with all the other “forgot-lings”. No! This cannot be MY fate!

Marnie is winning.. as she should. She is a c-r-a-z-y bridge player and only the very elite or the VERY stupid play with her. She will kick your..”FABULOUS hand dear. I guess that’s it. Are we playing Thursday?” Victorious again and counting her winnings, Marnie hardly looks up to answer, “sure, we can meet on Thursday..”. I could tell by the pause that more words were on her lips. “Ummm, maybe we can up the stakes just a bit”. Poor chumps! Next time they play for QUARTERS. Sorry gals..I see tough economic times in your future.

My Sandwich Generation…heads UP! Pure and simple..YOU NEED to know how to play bridge. If you don’t, you will be like me.. lost and out of sorts and the BUTT of all the old ladies’ JOKES. This is NOT a good position to be in. Eldercare can only be done well, if you know HOW to play THE GAME.

I fold!

A