Friday, February 22, 2008

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-. cribbage...

From reallyrelyay:
"Two summers ago my boyfriend taught me how to play cribbage. We sat adjacent to one another in cracked plastic lawn chairs, his grandmother’s old wooden board between us. We would have been out at the bars like any other normal twenty-something’s, but we were both unemployed and broke that summer, we lived like grannies. He taught me how to play using rhyme schemes: Fifteen-two the rest won’t do, fifteen-four, there ain’t no more, fifteen-two I guess I’m screwed, fifteensix the rest is nixed, and so on. He told me that it was mathematically impossible to get a hand that had nineteen points. One time my hand didn’t have any points so I told him it had nineteen. Nineteen became code for zero. We spoke in code a lot of the time. He told me he loved me when he bought me my own toothbrush for his house. That night I told him I loved him by tapping it in Morse code between his shoulder blades when he was sleeping. .. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-."

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