Playing Cards at Dinner
Think not of what you can do for yourself, but what you can do for her.
Warning: sappy romantic drivel ahead.
I’m not a huge game or card player. Sure, it’s fun, but I can think of other things I’d rather do. That said, my wife had it in her head that we needed to play cards while we have some time away from the kids. She had it in her head, but I didn’t have it in mine. So here’s what I did:
I got it into my head that she had it in her head that we needed to do this. So we did it.
I bought touristy cards at the Palm Springs Arial Tramway (complete with four different shots of the trams!) and we brought them to our dinner. At first, we were in a bar that had live music that was too, well, live. It was so loud we had to yell. Hmm, not conducive to a conversation or a card game. We moved over to the tapas restaurant that had a serene outdoor patio with lovely yellow lamps and, more important, heat lamps. We ordered and ate and brought out our cards.
I don’t know if everyone has this impression, but isn’t card playing something you do when you hit 70? At least 60?
It’s a pretty hip hotel and a trendy restaurant. No Bingo parlor and cafeteria here. But she wanted to play her card game and I liked that she did. I also like the idea of playing cards at a restaurant. It’s one of those images or dreams or concocted ideas that you have of something that you do … but maybe you don’t really ever do it. So we did it.
We played maybe ten rounds of gin rummy and make it through a pitcher of Sangria, lots of ridiculously delicious tapas and two margaritas. I’d love to hear what other people thought of our game playing at the restaurant but the beauty of it is that I don’t really care what they thought (good or bad). It was our night, our choice, our small moment to relish and remember. And hopefully to repeat for another 20 or 30 years.