24 and Me
How a quiet Canasta game turned me into a Joker
The rec room is warm and humid, carrying the faint aroma of sugary snacks. At five scattered card tables, automatic shufflers whir, and plastic tiles clack. Players study their hands, waiting. Cries of “Crack!” and “Bam!” and “Splash!” erupt from every corner. There are twenty-five Canasta and Mahjong players. Twenty-four women, and me.
I volunteered to play Canasta with some of Barb’s friends, helping fill out a table at their weekly game. I played a few hands with Barb before she rotated to another table, but now, for the first time in my brief Canasta career, I have a different partner.
I’m holding my own, following the rules and keeping a reasonable pace. I’ve made one mistake, discarding a card that should have gone into my partner’s meld, but she graciously waved it off. I hope it doesn’t cost us the game. Then again, we’re only playing for fun, not money. Not even pennies.
The game continues. I bend forward to pick up my next card, and suddenly something seizes in the back of my right leg. The pain is immediate and intense, and I rise in agony. I steady myself against the table as my partner calls out to Barb, “I think Les needs help!”
Barb sees my face, then my hand reaching for the back of my thigh. We both know what this is: a muscle cramp, severe enough to stop me in my tracks. With her years of experience as an occupational therapist, she also knows exactly what to do.
She steps behind me and places one hand on my shoulder. With the other, she presses firmly into the back of my thigh, working the muscle with steady, practiced movements. We rock slightly as I try to ride out the pain.
I realize the room has gone silent and look up to see twenty-three women staring at us in amazement. I can almost hear what they’re thinking: Are they really doing this here?
Barb senses it too. “It’s ok,” she says. “He’s my husband. And it’s only a cramp.”
The pain eases enough for me to send Barb back to her table. I’m not ready to sit yet, so I play standing. In this awkward position, I knock the refreshments off the table behind me.
As I do, the woman next to me shakes her head and says, “Can’t take him anywhere.”
And I know the others, Barb included, agree.
Canasta can be hazardous to your health Les!
Yikes; tough crowd.