In the VIP Lounge of our Civic Complex
on Tuesday afternoons, we retired folk
congregate at the call of the Director
to play Duplicate Bridge.
My partner and I usually do quite well;
we are often in the top three, sometimes
first. In fact, two weeks ago we were
Top Over All—nothing to sneeze at.
This report is not bragging—certainly not;
it is more like self-mutilation: the last
two weeks have seen us take part
in what can only be described as
an exercise in humility.
I have failed to return my partner’s suit
when she had the ace; she has put me
into seven spades when we were missing
three aces. The explanation is simple:
we need a good laugh.
And we are certainly getting it:
if points are given for giggling, chuckling,
and laughing out loud, we came first
for that this afternoon, in spite of the score.
Sometimes nothing needs to make sense.
