Anal Retentive Rummy*

We had no electricity yesterday. So, I spent the afternoon teaching my nine year old daughter, Charlotte, to play gin rummy.

I told her the first game we played wouldn’t really count. Then I looked at her cards and my cards. Her cards were better, so I kept them and gave her mine. I figured she’d learn strategy more quickly if she had a crappy hand.

When I won the hand after blatantly cheating, I jumped up and down shouting, “I won! I won!” Charlotte pointed out that I had seen her cards and that it was her first game ever. I thought this was unsportsmanlike behavior on her part. So, I did that L thing on my forehead with my thumb and index finger and called her a loser.

She is catching on to the game quickly. I’m proud of her efforts as usual.

Teaching her to play rummy has made me realize how anal retentive I am about cards. Charlotte didn’t know she should always lay her spreads in consecutive order from left to right. She didn’t even know that you are supposed to fan the cards and that they should always be evenly spaced.

She was just laying her cards down haphazardly until I informed her that we have to do these things properly or the very fabric of our society will shrink to nothingness like a camisole with a dry clean only tag that has been carelessly thrown in cold water.

I don’t know if she grasped the full meaning of that statement or not. She seemed a little frightened.

I have issues, I know. I would have gotten shot pretty quickly if I had been around in the old West:

Setting: Dirty Glass Saloon in old West

Background: I get into a seven card draw poker game with Billy the kid, Wild Bill Hickok and Jessie James. I go by the name Dastardly Deb. I’ll use initials to simplify things.

BTK to me – Yer starin’ at my hand, Dastardly Deb. Did ya mark these cards, woman? I hope you made peace with yer maker cuz yer gonna meet ‘im soon.

Me – What, uh, no I wasn’t staring for that reason. I was just noticing that one of your cards is sticking up a little higher than the others, and I’d really feel better if you’d even them out.

BTK – I reckon there’s no harm in that. Just mind yer manners and shut yer trap.

JJ – Are you lookin’ at my cards?

Me – Not on purpose, of course. But, I caught sight of them accidentally when you turned the other way to stare at that saloon girl’s breasts. Now I can’t bring myself to look away, because I see you have your clubs and hearts mixed together there. I don’t want to offend you, but you should organize your hand better. Frankly, it’s just a mess. You have two kings, and they are nowhere near each other.

Here I grab his cards to put them in proper order for him and he shoots me in my chest.

Me – I had that coming, I guess.

JJ – Damn right you did.

Me – I’m dying. I feel my life force draining away. Cough. Cough. Will someone please straighten the draw pile?

I cough up a gross amount of blood and then die.

WBH – Good riddance.

*Please note that at least some of the child abuse I mention here is exaggerated for comic effect, so there is no need to contact child protective services. Unfortunately, I didn’t exaggerate about how anal I am, so feel free to contact a psychologist on my behalf.

Comments 4

  • My gir!!Love you see you later

  • Being Anal comes naturally to you. You also have always cheated at cards.. Here are a few anal memories other then your cards I’d bet you still do??
    You wouldn’t let anyone open a book of yours..
    “Don’t open that book, just crack it a little and try to read it that way. If you hold it just right you can make out the words If you open it all the way it will never close right again”

    God forbid a corner gets bent out of shape for any reason or a crease is left in any way shape or form.

    Barbie’s clothes need to be ironed and stacked in their case neatly. If you mix them up she will have wrinkles in her wardrobe.

    One of my faves was holding ’45 records like cds so as not to get a fingerprint on them.

    Do not set a 160z plastic bottle on the hood of the car when trying to get something out of your purse. The moisture from the bottle could get it wet and ruin it forever.

    I’m not sure you remember this one…. Use the eyelash curler before you put mascara on or it is ruined forever and a new one needs to be bought asap.

    Even at ten you didn’t want anyone in your bed with bare feet unless they were just washed and you would wash your clean bare feet every night before gettting in bed. There could have been something on them you couldn’t see with the naked eye?

    Don’t fold the back of Mad magazine to see the back cover joke or picture. You could kind of roll it gently and get the idea of what it was.

    That’s all off the top of my head. I could give you much more lifetime anal evidence if needed in a court trial for your defense team down the road.
    I love my anal sister…

  • Michelle, you seem a little bitter. I said I was anal, and you jumped right on it and wrote ten paragraphs. So, I’m a little annoying? Really? Me? Everyone doesn’t do those things?

    It seems pretty obvious that if you get mascara on your eyelash curler it is contaminated and should be disposed of immediately.

    I find it interesting that you assume I will need a defense team some day. So, you are pretty sure I’m going to snap and kill someone? I’d have to use poison and then wrap the body neatly in plastic for disposal. Otherwise it’s, “Ew, dead person goo on the kitchen floor.”

  • Powerless to do anything…
    At least I’m not the only one with awful power. For the last few months we’ve been experiencing random brownouts and blackouts. Normally this would just be annoying except for the fact that I run around 20 domains off…

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