Cards with Pork Pie

I had received a postcard from Pork Pie while he was in Nepal, off trekking there for a month, because that's the sort of thing he does.  It was so simple and sweet, saying simply, "Nepal is amazing.  You must visit.  Thought of you every day, obviously.  Love, [Pork Pie]".

I was reminded that it had been far too long since we'd gotten together, despite frequent admonishments that we should do drinks together.  So I insisted via e-mail that we needed to actually set a date to get together, not just talk about it.  I was surprised when he suggested getting together to play bridge at the club, saying that he would bring a guy if I would bring a girl.  So we set a date, I invited an American friend of mine, and we were all set.

I was running a tad bit late, but luckily when I arrived at the club, I found I'd arrived just at the same time as my friend, while the boys were already in the bar having drinks.  In the bar, we chatted for a bit, and just as I was about to go to the bar, I spotted across the room quite the surprise:  The guy I'd been on a weird date with over a year ago!  I can't recall when I'd seen him since, maybe it hadn't been since then?  It was really funny, as we did a quick double-take, sort of made a game of looking around the people in-between us, and then finally went and enthusiastically greeted each other.

He was there with a group of people from dental school, and so we chatted only briefly, but it was good to see him, I threatened to drag him away from his books to come for drinks more often, and he joked that he'd be fine with that.  Quite a surprise, although good to see him again.  What a strange coincidence!

After wrapping up my conversation with him (and Pork Pie teasing me about being so graciously politic, talking to the people I know everywhere), I got us all a bottle of wine from the bar, and then we trekked upstairs to find a table to play at.

Some older gentlemen were already playing at the tables in the North Library, but luckily there was a table free for us to play.  Pork Pie and I sat across from each other to make a pair, while my American friend and Pork Pie's friend made the other pair.

I hadn't played bridge since I was 18, when I learned how to play in my calculus class in school.  (A quirk of the US Northeast schooling system, the Advanced Placement exam is done in May, but school doesn't end until June, leaving us with a month with absolutely nothing to do in class, so our teacher decided that teaching a whole bunch of math nerds to play bridge was a good use of our time).  I could barely remember any of it, but I was quite excited when as Pork Pie explained the game, little bits of it kept coming back to me in bits and pieces.

I won't claim to have any great talent for card playing, but the more we played, the more I remembered how much I've always enjoyed playing cards.  I hate games like poker, which rely on chance and bluffing, but games like this, where strategic play can help win a game even with a poor hand of cards, are really exciting.  It's a challenge to try to count cards in your head, to figure out from the subtle cues of your playing partner how you're supposed to play it out, and just generally keep the mental game going while your brain is becoming addled by the wine you are drinking as you play.

Also, playing with Pork Pie, as he started talking about interesting books he was reading, starting political discussions, and just generally being the interesting and engaging man that he always is, I found myself pausing.  I've always had a great deal of affection for Pork Pie, and I know he for me too, but it's never quite seemed to work out, although I don't quite know why.  Some might not find him to be traditionally handsome, but I've always rather liked his solid, comforting figure that borders on a bit chubby, his blonde hair that leans towards ginger, and his few inches of height on me.  Since he went to Nepal, he's grown a beard too, that I absolutely love.  Don't know why, but it just gives him this wild, mountain man, rugged look that really does it for me.  He keeps threatening to shave it, but I keep begging him not to.  I just love how he looks with that beard.

So as we played in our partnership, he was obviously a much better player than I am, but we had a good time working out our bids, and when I was left to play the dummy hand, he praised me for how well I played it on my own.  And when my turn as the dummy came, I went to fetch another bottle of wine, which earned me the effusive praise of "I love you!" quite a few times.

Ah, but as much fun as Pork Pie and I were having, my American friend was being truly rubbish.  I was quite frustrated, as I'd promised to bring a girl who was good company, and this girl was acting like she'd rather be almost anywhere other than there.  She claimed she was tired, but even when I'm tired I can make more of an effort!  The boys, sensing her lack of enthusiasm, only redoubled their efforts to engage her, but alas, she didn't respond in kind.  I was becoming more and more embarrassed by this, as obviously our friends are somewhat of a reflection on ourselves, and I was thinking, "What must the boys think of me that THIS is the girl that I brought along, who is dragging the entire evening down?"  When I was moaning to Joel about it later, he laughed, "You basically brought along a drunk and bitter Bridget Jones!"  Oh dear, yes I did...

Finally, when it was quite apparent that my friend was losing patience for bridge, we switched to playing Hearts, which Pork Pie turned out to be distressingly good at, earning not a single point in all the hands we played.  Even extraordinarily good cards can't explain that, it's really a mark of skill to be able to do that.  I was suitably impressed.

At this point, after three bottles of wine and no dinner, we decided to leave the club to go out in search of food.  As we walked along, I found myself naturally slipping my arm in Pork Pie's, as we walked up towards Trafalgar Square, talking and laughing the entire time.  I'd forgotten how relaxed and easy it is with him...

Our original choice for dinner was no longer serving, but we managed to squeak in at a nearby burger place, where we managed to get burgers and milkshakes, which were delicious at that point in the evening.  We continued to joke and laugh throughout dinner, my American friend at least seemed somewhat placated by the fact that we'd gotten dinner, and Pork Pie kept making jokes that I was one day going to be a Baroness, as I was so wonderfully social and adept with people.  He even declared to everyone, "There would actually be nobody more perfect for me to marry.  One day I will wake up to find myself married to her, and all my problems will be solved."  It was a joke, but even I was finding myself remembering how well-suited we are in some ways.  Why had it never worked out again?

Finally, we were ready to head home, and my American friend went off in one direction with Pork Pie's friend, while Pork Pie and I linked arms and walked off in the other.  We talked and laughed the whole way, him talking about how he felt that his 30th birthday was coming up, and then laughing that I remembered exactly when his birthday was (as he hides this information from the world at large with a mis-direct on Facebook).  But of course I know this...how could I ever forget?  Finally at the station, when it was time for us to go our separate ways, we still just kissed on each cheek, even as he held me close and we lingered for a bit.

Ah yes, this is why it never worked out, because that man never quite knows what he wants.  Why was he off in Nepal?  "To find himself".  He loves me, but isn't quite ready to say if he wants me.  Still, it was a lovely evening, to remember that there is this boy out there who I truly and deeply desire.  I'd nearly forgotten...