The Connoisseur of Awkward Part II
I recently became entangled in a risqué game of Apples to Apples.
Late at night. With a few fellow graduate students.
Never having played this game when the group did not include a child under the age of ten, I had not realized the full potential for danger that matching nouns to adjectives can have.
I naively thought that I was the only one who sometimes made rather, er, naughty connections in my head. Uh-oh.
When in a groups of only girls and having a night on the town, (ahem, Thalia,) we can be silly, crazy, full of bad puns, and we definitely flirt with danger. At least when it comes to language. Being literarily inclined, we can find ways to bend words and phrases that would make a sailor scratch his head. (Probably because we are being so oblique that he would have no clue what the heck we are talking about.) But this is all from our cozily contained apartment where we are making cookies – at 2am in the morning – and sipping our French Apple Lady Cocktails. Never did we attempt to share the brilliance of our daring, dashing, devious delights with anyone outside of our circle.
But this reticence is apparently not communally shared.
It was midnight when the game began. Clouds rolled and thunder rumbled, but we ignored these portends. Maybe I exaggerate. Maybe not.
The start was innocence itself; I easily won the green card “visionary” with something innocuous like “Ghandi,” or perhaps “sheep”. And the the game progressed from there. My judicious application of the “Women” card earned me the adjective card “soft,” the cards for “Michael Jackson” and “Cactus” were proven always to win whatever the green card, and two guys in the corner began to form a Liason of Peril.
This last developement remained in my peripheral attention until on my turn to judge I drew the card “SENSUAL”.
(As a side point, just the day before my brother and I had been debating possibility of an Evil Snigger. I had maintained that snigger is by nature too petty to be really evil. A snigger is something that the rather dull-witted henchmen might do, but no self-respecting Villian would be caught dead sniggering. Not when he could whip out a solid example of Evil with a “MWAhaHAhahaHaha”. My brother had only uttered ominously, “Soon you will be shown.”
At this point in the game my brother’s prophecy was proven correct; after a moment of silence to ponder the card, I swear one of those guys in the corner unearthed an Evil Snigger.
My blood ran cold.)
True to expectation, the first non card that I turned up was “Barbed Wire”.
Er, uh, well, the does produce certain sensations . . . ?
The next contender was “Power Tools”.
Am I missing something? If I am, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. My confusion abounded.
Thankfully, I was spared being forced to choose between the two by a final option from a third person unaffiliated with that Unholy Partnership: “Whipped Cream”.
Whipped Cream WINS.
And especially if the green card is “Sensual”.
I don’t remember much else of the game.
Probably because the next card drawn was “Sexual”.
One of the nouns thrown down was “Squid,” and last thing I recall is a reference to many tentacles . . . . . .
Conclusion? There is such a thing as an Evil Snigger. And, I ended up holding the green cards “Visionary,” “Hot,” “Soft,” and “Dark”. If the cards you win say something about you, what do these cards say about me?