When I was a little boy, one evening mom played bridge with three women at a card table in our living room. Mom allowed me to look at her cards, and I quietly asked whether this game included “Aces.” All the women laughed.
Later, mom and dad taught us to play bridge, and Ann was more interested than Sara. Dad sometimes counted his points quietly, but out loud (going well into the 20’s), in order to joke with us.
I often read about bridge in the newspaper, but did not play often for many years. When I moved to Minneapolis I discovered a small building devoted to bridge. I started playing duplicate bridge, usually on Saturday afternoon.
I played against a bridge player who was nationally famous. Everyone played the same hands, which were part of a national game. Our opponents reached the expected small slam (expecting to take 12 of 13 tricks), and I had to lead a card. My club suit was void (no cards in that suit) while I had seven cards in the spade suit headed by ace, king, and queen. I brilliantly led the two of spades, my partner won the trick with his jack, and wisely shifted to the club suit. I took it with a trump, and we set them one trick. We were the only team that played brilliantly, and our opponent got very pissed off, presumably because he anticipated beating us badly.
A bridge couple argued with each other loudly and constantly. They obviously disturbed the entire room. When we played against them for three hands, I thought it over carefully (as a psychiatrist), and then told them (calmly, briefly and clearly) that their behavior was unkind and inappropriate. They stopped their behavior for the rest of the afternoon, and my partner was astonished and grateful.
I taught Carl to play bridge, and he picked it up quickly and brilliantly. We entered an adult tournament when Carl was a child or young teenager. Two others were part of our 4-person partnership, and they were quite expert and kind. We won the club tournament, and made it to the State Tournament. We did OK but were not champions.
St. Paul had an annual huge indoor winter festivity, and it was attended by a famous man had been Bridge World Champion. He had successfully confronted the world championship Italians for cheating. Among other things, he asked me whom I thought was the best player in the world. I loved meeting him.
I often showed up for Saturday bridge without a partner, and would be assigned to someone who also did not have a partner. A few times I played with an elderly lady living in a nursing home. She had poor memory and played badly, but I enjoyed her and sometimes drove her back to the nursing home at the end of the afternoon.