Year one of marriage, maybe year two. It doesn't matter. What matters is that Cathi and I were still in the honeymoon stage of our relationship. No matter how hard I tried, I could do no wrong. Or perhaps what I mean is; I could only do right. Nevertheless, in the eyes of Cathi, I was a perfect being, incapable of leaving a dish on the counter or clipping my toenails in the vicinity of our home. That all changed one October night at 9:15.
The game was Boggle and my mood could only be described as intense ferociousness. We had played this game five or six times every night for the past 3 weeks. The score? Cathi - 48 Abe - 0.
I had not won a single game. My moral was worse than Kevin Costner after the release of Waterworld. At night I would dream about word patterns within the puzzle. The sound of the letter dice rolled through my head like an unceasingly loud roar of water fall. This game, particularly losing to Cathi at this game, had me enwrapped in it's long, bony fingered grip. I was determined to zealously play this game until at last, I would become victorious.
As I later learned, my strategy was all bungled. I would meticulously look for the longest word I could find, in hopes that I would score bonus points and impress Cathi with my creativity. Of course, Cathi would be scribbling word after word at a meteoric pace. Alas, the tiny stream of pixy dust would come to rest and we would count up our scores:
Cathi: 45 three letter words and 16 four letter words!
Abe: Well, 5 three letter words, but I got apricot and princess!
Cathi: Wow, that is really good Abe. Well, I win again.
Abe: What the *@(!&#??
Of course, I didn't really swear. You have to remember, I was perfect at the time.
We had just completed game #50 and my frustration level raneth over. I did something I would forever regret. Something that was completely against my nature. I picked up the entire Boggle game, pieces and all, and heaved it across the room and into the wall where it shattered into a hundred pieces.
Cathi sat, open mouthed and motionless. "I HATE BOGGLE! AND I HATE ALL THOSE STUPID LITTLE BOGGLE PIECES! I EVEN HATE THAT PLASTIC CONTAINER THING!" I yelled into the night sky and stormed out of the apartment in a huff. I needed to clear my cluttered mind.
I was standing outside on the lawn, having a smoke (my brain was on fire) when Cathi came to console me. She said, "We should never play that game again." And she gave me a soft hug. I quietly agreed with her as I brushed the hair out of her face. She looked so beautiful standing there in the fall moonlight. Some soft Tori Amos music started playing as she reassuringly put her arm around me and said, "Lets go in Abe. Lets go in." I lovingly replied, "Lets just stand here and enjoy this moment a minute longer." Yes, a little melodramatic and sliced like a cliche piece of cheese, but that is how I remember it.
We have not played Boggle since that dreadful day.
Other games I will not play with Cathi because I will never, in a million years, win:
Solitaire (A game to see who can get through their cards fastest.)
Chutes and Ladders
*Pretty much any game involving seeing number patterns or patterns in words, or finding out who is "fastest" at something.