A couple of weeks ago, there was a brief thread about unusual
ways of playing Scrabble. This inspired an email exchange
with Robert Coren, in which I told him of an idiosyncratic
way of playing Monopoly. As it happens, I had written up
an account of my introduction to this game 19 years ago --
as a letter to my high school friend Kelley who had been
away taking organic chemistry classes the summer of the
game. I dug out the story and typed it up to send to Robert.
Is it soc.motss material? Robert voted yes.
Remember that I was 18 when I wrote this. Remember that
the participants are all 17 and 18 and 19 years old. I'm a
little embarrassed at the prose style, but not inordinately
so.
The Monopoly Game
_________________
It seemed like a rational suggestion -- at least as rational
as these suggestions ever are. For days Patti had been referring
portentously to a Monopoly game "we all should have sometime."
"Sometime" became tonight and somewhere became Jule's house.
I geared myself up with capitalist fervor and evening
approached.
I guess I realized this would be no strict stick-to-the-rulebook
affair when Patti asked me to make up a few Chance and
Community Chest cards to bring. This suggestion was
understandable, for we are all a bit tired of "You
have won second prize in a beauty contest" and "Advance
token to nearest utility." I cut up some orange and
yellow construction paper, practiced drawing that little
man with the top hat, tailcoat, and mustache, and ventured
a few conservative commands like "You have been elected
President; collect $50 from each player to pay for second
house (if you cannot build at this time, return to bottom
of pile.") Admittedly this was not rollickingly funny,
but I was under the impression that variety, not comedy,
was desired. With the air of confident frivolity I
have developed over the years I've known the people who
would be playing, I wrote "Advance token to kitchen
sink (and wash it)" and I drew a cute little picture of
the little man's head, top hat, and mustache in a sink.
I put several $500 and $100 Monopoly bills in my pocket (just
for emergencies) and set off for Jule's.
I was early, so we put on some Barbra Streisand and made
up a card saying "Boogaloo to Broadway." Ted arrived
and added his own unique updatings to the game: "Go to
jail, but receive $500 advance on resulting novel and
speaking engagements." "Exploit the proletariat: Raise
rent on Baltic Avenue to exorbitant amount." I was
just writing "Sing scales; receive $10 for every note
in your range" and Jule was illustrating when Todd
arrived, laden with his game, containing the
hundred or so Chance and Community Chest cards he has
acquired in his years of playing what I shall henceforth
call Absurdist Monopoly.
In Todd's hands were not the satirical illustrated
variations on existing cards we had been making,
but rather a series of instructions, challenges, and
dares reminiscent of everything from Beat the Clock to
improvisational theater. On different colored pieces of
construction paper were scrawled directives such as
"Receive $10 for every song you can think of in thirty
seconds beginning with 'I'm..." On one card, obviously
intended to intimidate Ellen Gamble during a previous game,
was written "Receive $37 for saying a dirty word." (Ellen in
fact had drawn this card and refused to say one.) I pointed
out to Todd that "Receive $43 if you can make Audrey
laugh" was hardly fair, since Audrey was not due to
arrive that evening, but Todd asserted that this fact
merely would add a little more interest to the game. ("You
can call her up, you know.")
Lee and Claire came, lacking cards or any foreknowledge of
this style of playing. Patti arrived with subtle and
manipulative cards like "In the next round of turns,
discreetly steal one die. In the resultant furor, show
this card and receive $50. If someone catches you, pay
$25." She also brought the game-upsetting "Move
all houses to the property on their immediate left."
After some warm-up popcorn and pretzels, we were ready
to begin.
We tried to team off strategically. Ted and Todd were the
most competitive players, so they wound up as a team,
choosing the little metal poodle as their marker. Jule and
Lee, old buddies from way back, joined forces. Patti and I paired
off, and Claire, characteristically, had to play by herself
and sulk.
It became apparent at this point that Monopoly, as we play
it, could hardly be called a game of skill. People always
buy whatever properties they land on, and with four teams playing,
the deeds ran out before the money did. At this point I
started to prepare for the future. I knew there was a
Chance card Todd had brought that said "Collect $20 for
every $1 bill in your possession," so I stole about 30 $1 bills from
the bank (Claire was banker, so this was not difficult).
I also had some blank Chance cards and a magic marker.
At first the game was punctuated with scattered ridiculousness:
Patti-and-I had to "pretend to laugh and receive $10 for
every person we could encourage to join us." Claire became
flustered upon receiving "Do an impression of Steven and
receive $50 if someone guesses what you're doing."
Lee-and-Jule had to think of book titles beginning
with "The..." Patti-and-I rolled a seven and only moved
six (to avoid landing on already-owned Boardwalk) and
no one noticed. Claire received "Roll the dice six
times while singing 'I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face'";
she started blurting out," OhandJansingsthisallthetimeandIshould
knowitletmeseeI'vegrownaccustomedtoherfacehowdoesitgofromthere
shealmostmakesthedaybegin (roll dice) dadadadadumdum (roll dice)
StevenwhatcomenextIwasserenelyindependent..." She finally got
through it whereupon she realized there was no prize to be
had and she had made a fool of herself for no reason; she put her head
down on the table and cried. Ted-and-Todd passed Go in the middle
of a turn in which they landed on Income Tax and Jule passed
$200 to them by way of Patti who pocketed the money; in
the ensuing confusion, as Ted-and-Todd tried to figure out 10%,
no on noticed this; when Ted asked for his money, Jule
insisted she had given it to him; Patti remained silent
and Ted resigned himself to the fact that he had gotten the money
but forgotten about it. Claire concentrated intensely as
she tried to remember to collect rent.
I managed to slip away, where I made one card that said, "You
win the game, collect all money and property" and another
that said "Collect $200 for every $1 bill you have."
The next time Patti-and-I picked a card, we "dropped" it
on the floor and picked up the $1 bill card. With the previously
stolen $1 bills, we netted $6000. Todd accused us of
switching cards, and we agreed that we had, indeed,
made the switch, but proffered the "You win the game"
card and asked if we should really use the "card we had
drawn." (Nobody realized that we had a third card hidden
beneath Patti's foot on the floor.) Todd said we were cheating,
and I reminded him that he had made up the card (correctly
assuming that he would forget that his card had said "receive
$20" while our card said "receive $200"). Todd said that didn't
matter because we had stolen the $1 bills from the bank. Patti
informed him that we had had the bills since the game began and
hence were allowed squatter's rights.
At this point Todd decided that the cards were against him
and made up "All players with a tilde in their last name
receive $2000" (that being only Ted) and Ted contributed
"Recieve $50 for every French bicycle racer you can name"
(that also calculated to favor only Ted). I put in "All
Irish people except those named Claire receive $3000"
(did I mention that Patti's last name is McManamy?), which
Claire later stole to prove to her friends in Portland
that she really did know people who did this sort of thing
to her. Lee-and-Jule looked on in amazement and no one bothered
to roll the dice for quite a while.
Todd, still hurting over our $6000 coup, left the room and
found Jule's Monopoly set and returned with quite a few
mysterious $500 bills. This retaliation pacified things
for a few minutes. With Claire's unchanging luck, she
drew "Receive $15 for every song you can name in 30 seconds
involving feet." In a pressured flurry, she blurted out,
"The Hallelujah Chours." When Ted challenged her on this,
I came to her defense by explaining that "The Hallelujah
Chorus" concerns itself with "the great feats God hath
wrought," which Ted deemed acceptable.
Soon it came to be Ted-and-Todd's turn, but when they perused
the board, their dog marker was nowhere to be found. They
saw a note in front of them in what might very well have
been Patti's handwriting that said, "Ok Toots, if you ever want
to see Poochie alive again, pay $500 to the team on
your immediate right" (which was, coincidentally, the team
of Patti-and-I). Todd paid the ransom, but this set off
a wave of kidnappings that would do credit to the
Symbionese Liberation Army. No marker, house, or property
deed was safe. Soon, Claire was crying on the table,
Lee-and-Jule were still trying to play correctly, Todd
was writing cards furiously, Patti was being intensely witty,
and Ted and I were singing "El Paso."
The game wound to a close at this point. We all declared ourselves
the winners: Patti-and-I because we had the most money, including
the bills I had brought from my set at home; Ted-and-Todd because
they wanted to win more than anybody else; Lee-and-Jule because
they had played the entire game fairly; and Claire because
she had to play by herself and suffer untold harassment from
the rest of us. As satisfactory an outcome as you could want.
July, 1975
--------
Epilogue, August 1994
Obmotss: Steven, Patti, Todd, Audrey's brother-in-law
People who were "boyfriends" of Patti's in high school: Steven, Todd
College professors: Kelly, Ted
People who, at one time, had big crushes on Claire: Steven, Kelley (original
recipient of this essay), Ted
People who, at one time, had big crushes on Kelley: Steven, Claire, Jule
People whose crushes on each other briefly coincided (=sex): Ted and Claire
People who lived in Minneapolis as adults: Lee, Jule, Steven
People who have spoken to Sammie Foss on the telephone: Kelley
People quoted by name in The Advocate in the mid-80s: Steven (article
on gay alumni groups), Todd (article on gay softball).
Where are they today?
Lee - Dead at 22. Bike-truck accident.
Jule - Spent long period as Fundamentalist Christian in Minneapolis
(there is a connection here between Jule's residence in
this city and mine, although we never lived here at the
same time). Used to pray for me, but wisely did not tell
me until years later. Woke up one day when church leaders
started to tell her which books she shouldn't read.
*Thunk* and she was out of the church in a flash. Got
married, moved to Chicago, writes me regularly.
Audrey - (Mentioned in passing): Married high-school sweetheart.
Brother of high school sweetheart wrote me when Polly Powledge
organized a soc.motss lunch for me in my hometown and announced it
in soc.motss.
Ellen - (Mentioned in passing): Preacher kid, second generation Bob
Jones University. Burst into tears in 10th grade when I
sang "Jesus Was a Teenager, Too" in Chemistry Lab. Her friendship
with us was her big rebellious stage. Went off to Bob Jones
herself, married a fellow student who went on to join the
faculty there.
Claire - A public defender and single mom, living in the Haight
in San Francisco. I see her at least once a year.
I still have the same crush on her I conceived when
we met, in seventh grade.
Todd - Spent several years trying to alienate his high school friends.
Was mostly successful, except for Patti who tracked him down
sporadically and thus learned, twelve years after graduation,
that he had come out and become the commissioner of the gay
softball league of New York City. I contacted him and we
met for a beer. He still had lots of high school issues to
work out. For all I know or care, he still does.
Ted - Although Ted was really my best friend through those intense and
difficult years of jr. high and high school (and the only
other student in the third-year Latin class junior year),
I have lost contact with him since moving to Minnesota.
Three years ago he was a professor in the Classics department
at SUNY Albany. I have been missing him lately. (Anyone
on soc.motss know how to find out an email address for
faculty at SUNY schools?)
Patti - Running a battered women's shelter in Burlington Vermont.
Recently discovered the Michigan Woman's Music Festival,
and provides a fabulously entertaining account, with
lyric descriptions of such performers as "The Apologizing
Woman."
Kelley - A professor of molecular biology at The University
of Georgia at Athens. Sammie Foss found me his
email address and we have just this week re-established
contact after three or four years.
From the Internet. Original © not known. This version ©2000 OFC