Adult Scrabble Night

Recently, I came across an intriguing bulletin on the Queens Library Community Calendar, for something called "Adult Scrabble Night."

I thought it sounded like a great idea, for several reasons. I used to play Scrabble all the time, but the opportunity hasn't really presented itself much in recent memory.

I can't really get into playing Scrabble online; call me bourgeois, but the tactile experience of using real wooden tiles is part of the game's aesthete.

I also can't stand playing Scrabble with people when their kids are running around all over the place, being loud and disruptive. I understand that kids will be kids, and I respect that. But that's also why I avoid being around children and young adults as much as possible.

Kids are whiny, needy, and they smell bad.

Most kids are also hideous.

Ugly, greasy little fatties leaking boogers and ear wax everywhere... just revolting.

Anyway, that, combined with the cruel thrill I get from outwitting senior citizens, is why I decided to check out Adult Scrabble Night.

The first thing I noticed as I walked into the library was Herbie Hancock's "Fat Albert Rotunda" blaring through the loudspeaker. Then I saw a bunch of people talking and laughing, standing near a book cart fully stocked with booze and mixers.

I remember thinking "Where have you been all my life, Adult Scrabble Night?" when I was suddenly approached by a friendly looking older gentleman, who seemed to appear from out of nowhere.

"Hi there, you must be Eric's friend," he said with a wide smile. "I'm Pete; we spoke on the phone. Come on in, we're about to get started."

He had clearly mistaken me for someone else, so I responded

"Um, I don't know who Eric is. I just came to check out the Scrabble night... is this the right place?"

The warmth suddenly drained from Pete's eyes, replaced with something almost resembling fear, but his smile remained frozen in place. After a short pause, he said

“Yes, yes, this is the place… Welcome! Why don’t you make yourself a drink and get acquainted with the others; we’ll be getting started soon.”

So, after a few drinks, I started mingling with the group, which was mostly a bunch of witty, clearly educated older people who all seemed to know one another. I couldn’t help but notice that, even though they were senior citizens, everyone seemed to have an oddly youthful quality to their eyes and faces. Over the course of the conversation, it became apparent that everyone was an academic type in some regard- teachers, writers, and so forth.

So naturally, my caustic wit and droll conversational eloquence was a big hit with the Adult Scrabble Night regulars, especially with the women in the group. Half a dozen Brandy Alexanders later, I felt like I’d serendipitously discovered some sort of neo-Xanadu, tucked away behind a pile of skulls in New Kampuchea. Although I was kind of confused about how everyone kept asking me about this Eric guy-

“You must be Eric’s friend,” “How long have you known Eric,” etc.

Then when I would say that I don’t know Eric, they would quickly change the subject. I guess in hindsight, that should have been the first red flag, but I was already half-faced so I didn’t really think about it at the time.

Maybe two hours after I’d last seen him, Pete suddenly re-appeared and announced that the games would begin in 15 minutes. I started talking to this guy who everyone called “Uncle Sam.” I’m not sure how he got that nickname, because he looked nothing like the Uncle Sam in the Army posters. He was also almost 7 feet tall, and black. But anyway, at one point, Uncle Sam leaned in towards my ear and whispered

“This is unquestionably the best one of these things in the city.”

To which I conversationally replied

“You must really love Scrabble- do you play anywhere in South Brooklyn?”

“Scrabble?” said Uncle Sam as he shot me a confused glance. “What the fuh-“

He quickly regained his composure, kind of laughed to himself, and said

“Right, Scrabble. I love me some Scrabble. Sometimes I play all day.”

Then he gave me a pat on the shoulder and wished me luck as he walked away, still laughing to himself.

Feeling kind of awkward, I moseyed up to a pair of well-dressed older women and asked if there were any “house rules” for Adult Scrabble that I should know about. The women gave each other a subtle glance and smiled at each other. Then one of them said

“Well, one house rule is, if there’s a blank tile on the board, and you have the letter represented by that tile, you can use a turn to replace and keep the blank tile. Beyond that, all you need to know is that the other rules will become crystal clear once the game is in motion.”

The other woman just stared at me with a coy, drunken smile as she tongued the straw in her frozen margarita.

“Um, so… that doesn’t seem fair to keep me in the dark about the rules.”

The women then started laughing uncontrollably, and when it finally subsided, the first woman touched my cheek and said

“Don’t worry, doll-face. I think it’s safe to say that you are definitely coming out a winner tonight.”

That should have been the second red flag right there.

But before my mind could even process that twisted little exchange, the library loud speaker began to feedback, and a sexually ambiguous voice ominously announced

“The Game Begins Now.”

That’s when the Bay City Rollers song “Rock N’ Roll Love Letter” began blasting through the speaker.

I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about what happened after that.