At the wild and crazy New Year's Eve party which Jorge and I attended with one and a half of the 7 couples in our small group ("one half" meaning one husband had to work) Jorge and I learned a new game called "Farkle."
Before I go on with that, though, let me mention that despite what you may have seen on TV at Times Square, this was THE party to attend New Year's Eve, even though the the five of us dispersed well before midnight because we're all so old that our joints turn to stone at precisely 11:30 pm each night, including New Year's Eves. But before we got tired, boy-howdy, we were insane Farkle high rollers!
Anyway, back to the obsession formerly known as "Farkle." It's as much fun to play as it is to say. And with that sentence, I think I just created a new marketing tag line for the Farkle company. They're welcome.
I won't spend time telling you how to play [see below], but basically you roll six dice until you get to 10,000 points, which is great right there. I mean, 10,000? I've never had 10,000 of anything, except for 10,000 white socks without mates in the laundry basket.
The game began to consume us, however. Jorge and I could hardly get through meals last week before we shoo'd the kids out of the kitchen, wiped the table down and Farkled like it was 1999!
Even when we weren't playing, we found ways to keep the flame alive, if you know what I mean. For instance, I was sitting here typing this, and while Jorge was totally unaware of the topic, he strode up to the computer desk and flung the six dice at me and said, "Take that!" It wasn't a great roll, but, oh, he knew what he was doing: fanning the fervid Farkle flames.
And we've been leaving the dice on the table next to a score sheet so that when we go by, we can just give it a quick roll and jot down our score for the other to see whenever he/she goes by. So, essentially, we're always playing Farkle.
It's sort of sick, I know, but who cares? We're two consenting adults who aren't hurting anyone, except when I forget to feed and water the dog.
But now there is a fly in the champagne, so to speak.
After a two-week absence, "Real Life" has come through the front door and shouted, "Honey, I'm home!" putting an end to all of our stolen moments of Farkling.
That is to say, it's "back to work" day today. Back to the old routine, the hum-drum, no-fun, go-to-work-come-back home, what'll-we-have-for-dinner-oh,-frozen-chicken-nuggets-I-guess treadmill of life.
But we'll always have these two weeks; I'll always remember the flicker of Farkle in his eyes and the only slightly less intoxicating tears in his eyes when he lost yet another round to me.
So bring on the copier and the staff meetings ... but don't be surprised if I'm caught doodling dice in the margins of the agendas--like misty, water-colored memories of the way we Farkled.
How to play: Wikipedia's Farkle Rules