Pinochle Anyone?
By Ernest Winchester
Copyright By Ernest Winchester
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Pinochle Anyone?
It was, as always, the men against the women, or as they usually put it, the boys against the girls. On this particular evening they were playing at Sabrina and Bert’s house as they alternated the location of their loosely scheduled twice-monthly pinochle games. Next time it would be Sam and Betty’s turn to host.
Over the two years or so they had been playing, the teams were about even in wins and losses, with each team claiming the most. No one kept a running total for that would kill the fun of making the claims.
“Anyone need a fresh drink?” Sabrina inquired as she returned from the kitchen with the deck of cards. The foursome imbibed moderately, just enough to make for a jovial evening, but not enough to muddle the mind for bidding.
“I’m good.”
“Maybe after a couple of hands.”
Sabrina placed the boxed card deck in front of Sam before she sat down between the two men. It was customary for the guest to deal first.
Sam took a sip of his drink and wiped the acquired condensation from his cold glass on his pant leg before opening the box to withdraw the deck. “So, you girls ready to get scrounged this evening?” he said, and he shuffled the deck.
“Just deal, and we’ll see who gets scrounged by the end of the evening.” Betty responded from across the corner of the folding card table. They used the card table set up in the middle of the living room in lieu of the kitchen table, which was too long in one direction to make reaching across convenient.
Sam offered the shuffled deck to Sabrina and she made the ‘cut,’ reversing the top and bottom. Sam began dealing the cards amid the usual good-humored chitchat that, after a few drinks—but long before the evening was over—would include many sexual innuendos. They were adults after all.
The first card went to his wife, not out of preference, but only because she was to his left. The cards accumulated before each player with the women picking up their hands and beginning to assemble the various cards into marriages and suits.
With most of the cards dealt, Betty said, “Sam, you deal like old people fuck.”
“You should know, sweetheart.”
But as the rest of the cards were distributed, Sam had to agree. “I guess you’re right honey. I’ve just made a misdeal.”
“How do you know? You haven’t picked up your cards.”
“The last card went to Sabrina, I’m short a card.”
“Everyone count your cards.” Bert spoke for the first time since the dealing had begun. He hadn’t picked up his hand, as it was his custom to allow the cards to ‘hatch.’
“I’ve got twelve.”
“Me too.”
The women had counted quickly as Bert assembled his cards and concurred after his count.
“Only eleven here.” Sam said.
“Check the box.” Sabrina pointed to the box lying beside the dealer. It was empty.
Sabrina scooted her chair back and began looking around on the floor. The others followed suit. There was no stray card on the floor.
“Okay, so who slid an ace up their sleeve?” Sam was always quick with a quip.
“Nothing in mine but my tits.” Sabrina was wearing a sleeveless blouse and inside it were an impressive pair—but no ace. “I’ll go check the junk drawer.”
While she was gone, Sam reassembled the deck and made one more count. “Forty-seven.” He announced as Sabrina returned empty handed.
“So now what do we do?”
“Well, have you got a standard deck? We could always play rummy.” Sam suggested, as he put the worthless cards back into the box.
“Ah, I’ve got a deck, but you’d have to ignore the pictures of naked women on the front of the cards.” Bert gave out an embarrassed chuckle.
“With a deck like that, we might be inspired to play strip poker.” Betty offered, as she flirtatiously eyed each of the others. The eyes of the others bounced from player to player as each seemed to contemplate the idea.
“Well, if we do, we need to change seats. I’m not going to sit and stare at Sam’s bare chest.”
“I agree, not that I intend to loose. So should Sabrina and I change?”
“No.” Betty quickly spoke up. “We should all have some fresh scenery. Sam, you and I switch.”
“I like that idea, but won’t Bert feel shortchanged looking at your little boobs.”
“Oh, I think they’ll do just fine.” Bert offered. “I’ll go get the deck.”
Sabrina rose from her chair. “And I’ll close the blinds.
The End