THE OUTSIDER

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 264, 3 August 1929, Page 9

THE OUTSIDER

A SAD, SAD STORY

“I DO NOT PLAY BRIDGE”

(By

J.L.G.)

I have just made a terrible discovery. I am an outsider. I am in this world but not of it.. My friends look at me with eyes of pity, and with glances that seem to say, "Poor fellow, I wonder if he realises at what a disadvantage he is placed.” Some of them have even given me up as hopeless— not worth thinking about. I am fast becoming an outcast. I do not play bridge! Strange as that may sound, it is a fact. I always try to keep myself up to date in everything, and to keep myself “an fait” ns regards the latest topics of conversation. I have tried to see beauty in Epstein’s “Night,” and have discussed the moral aspect of “Young Woodley.” 1 have mastered the steps of the “Tile Trot,” and have read all the correspondence in connection with “All Quiet on the Western Front.” I have given greely to the earthquake fund. But all to no purpose. I do not play bridge. Woe is me! 1 know not the difference between three hearts and two spades. A grand slam holds just as much thrill for me as a ride in a tramcar. I do not even know the significance of “having none, partner.” In a room I am as one apart. My friends discuss the latest topics of the card world —how Miss Contract overcalls, and how Mr. Yarborough never lets his partner play a hand. I try to look intelligent, nnd then one of them turns rounds, looks me up and down as if I had no right to be among decent eard-playing society, and says, in cutting tones: “Oh. of course, this is all meaningless to you. You don’t play, do you?” Everyone titters, and for the rest of the evening I might as well be invisible for all the notice they take of tne. Then there is the annoying habit my friends have got into of ringing me up and saying: “Do come round and see us to-night. Oh, what a blow' You don’t play bridge, do you? What a shame. Sorry, old thing, I’ll ring you next week instead. You see, I wanted you to make a fourth.” I’m still waiting for next week to come! There is even worse than that. Onlv last week I met a young lady whose first remark, almost before the introdmtion was over, was: “Do you - play bridge?” “No,” I replied. “What! Don’t play bridge. Good heavens. I didn’t think there was anyone so mid-Victorian left! How do you manage to amuse yourself?” Apparently she didn’t expect a reply, for she turned away and started up a conversation with the friend who intro duced us. I’m getting so used to that sort of treatment that I didn’t give this ultra-sophisticated young person the chance of seeing that I looked on her conduct as illbred. One of these days I’m going to show my no trump, no bid, misdeal, friends that they had better cultivate a soul above clubs, spades, hearts, and diamonds. As a matter'of fact, I started ou my campaign a few days ago. I played five hands of poker with a “four” who had just finished their rubber of bridge, and, thanks to twos being “loose.” I won every hand. Who says I can’t play cards?