Big Chess
Something about growing up with a permanent frown as a genuine pondering face does not sit well with people raised by parents who dusted sugar on their strawberries and invested in their children’s acting careers early. I can’t imagine why, but I did begin to notice it more and more as I got older. So on September 30th, 2022 I decided to practice my active listening countenance. I had tried being myself previously, to no avail but accusations of projecting annoyance and disinterest. Often times I am in this state, but usually, I am not. Below are the scenarios in which I find my company begins to interpret my face negatively:
I am listening, but I am tired.
I am listening, but I am having difficulty being interested in the topic so I am finding it hard to speak on it. This does not necessarily mean that the topic and the people involved are boring, I just don’t have anything to say at the moment. But perhaps later.
I am listening, and I am speaking, but I am tired. I appear bored, but I am not.
And, finally, the worst of all scenarios:
I am listening, and I am speaking, but my comedic timing is off.
But alright, I don’t want to get carried away with why my expressions and personality aren’t the most enticing at times — I want to return to September 30th, when I decided to fix it all and give my resting soft smile its introduction into society. Which is to say, I went to a party in someone’s apartment.
Things were going well. I believe there was a chocolate box cake somewhere on the kitchen counter. Conversations seemed to be mostly dominated by work and sex-forward dating apps. I was being warmer than I’d ever been in my life.
As the party moved towards the couch, my friend picked up a deck of playing cards sitting on the coffee table. Things would never be the same.
These were not ordinary playing cards, no no. They were massive playing cards. Gargantuan. At first glance I thought I was experiencing an optical illusion. Suddenly I imagined a group of polar bears playing poker and became irate. Because last I checked I was not a polar bear.
My friend attempted to shuffle the cards. A horrendous sight. They were simply way too huge for any kind of riffling. I mean it was painful to watch for me, truly atrocious. Was anyone actually playing with these cards? What would a magician even do with these things? I imagined how long it would take to flip just one of them over in a game of blackjack or adjust one’s hand while attempting to conceal it from your opponents. I mean they might as well be freaking billboards on the side of a highway.
I couldn’t understand it. My soft smile face was gone. Mood ruined. Outlook bleak. Overwhelming feelings of despair. I left the party shortly thereafter.
I began to notice other games made huge by human beings around me. Was this happening simply because their parent companies were running out of ideas? While on vacation at a resort in December I came across a chessboard the size of a Lower East Side studio. The pieces were taller than most human toddlers. In horror, I watched the longest game of chess ever played from my balcony. It took 25 seconds minumum to move a pawn and another 35 seconds to remove an eliminated rook to the side of the board. When one player tipped over their opponents queen I let out a loud sigh and averted my gaze.
A running list of everyday items that can be found in larger than normal forms if you are looking for them, and still make sense as such: salt and pepper shakers (can hold more)
There is nothing visually appealing about a large game of checkers. There is no beauty to be gleaned from playing Go Fish while holding enough paper it might as well be a dissertation. Huge jenga? Don’t even get me started (have you ever heard the sound that comes from one of those lattice structures when it tumbles to the ground in the middle of a bar? Why are we doing this to ourselves?).
I love large bowls of Italian Wedding soup. Large paintings. Large dogs. Large sweaters. Large wheels of cheese. Large fields of grass. A california king bed when I can find one. Even something like a huge paintbrush I could get behind. But I fear, everyday, they will make Stratego the size of a tennis court. Scrabble letters big enough to be used as trivets for dutch ovens. I am afraid of the overproduction of Big Chess just like I fear Big Tech and I sincerely believe you should be, too.