Page 17 of Dating Goals
“It is a Swiss game,” another one pipes up. “Very simple. We will teach you.”
They introduce themselves in rapid-fire. Colin, Evan, Lars—their names blurring together as they deal the cards. The rules seem straightforward enough, but there’s something off about how eager they are to teach me.
“First round is just for fun, yes?” says Colin, the mustached one.
The others nod eagerly. Too eagerly.
One of them, (Evan, I think) wearing a red flannel shirt, slides a beer in front of me. I haven’t even ordered one yet.
“Lars always wins,” he says. “Maybe you can bring him bad luck, eh?” He elbows his friend, both snickering.
I pick up my cards, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar suits. They’re not like regular playing cards. There are bells and shields and acorns instead of hearts and spades.
“How about a small bet to make the game more interesting?” Colin suggests, pulling out his wallet. “Twenty francs each? For beginner’s luck?”
The others quickly agree, tossing bills into the center. Three pairs of eyes fix on me expectantly.
I’ve played enough poker to recognize when I’m being set up. These guys aren’t as drunk as they’re pretending to be, and that practiced shuffle wasn’t just showing off. They think they’ve found an easy mark. The clueless foreigner they can fleece for some cash.
“Sure,” I say, pulling out my wallet. “Twenty sounds good.”
Colin’s eyes light up as he deals the cards. They exchange looks that clearly say they think this is going to be like taking candy from a baby. They’re probably right.
Colin fires off instructions while Lars and Evan nod along, adding bits and pieces that only muddle things further.
My head is already spinning. “Wait, so the acorns are…”
“Yes, yes, highest suit,” Lars cuts in, already playing his first card. “You will catch up quite quickly.”
“This is Under, very important card.” Colin points to what looks like a medieval knight. “And here, these are your trumps.”
I stare at my hand, trying to make sense of the symbols. Before I can ask another question, Evan slaps down a card.
“Your turn,” Colin prompts, nodding at my cards.
“But I don’t know what?—”
“You will catch on, you will catch on!” Evan waves his hand dismissively. “Play anything.”
I randomly select a card with what looks like a bell on it. The others groan dramatically.
“No, no, you must follow suit!” Colin taps my discarded card. “Unless you have no bells, then you can trump.”
“Right…” I have no idea what that means.
Lars leans forward, studying my face. “Hey, I know you. You’re that new goalie, yes? For Visp?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Finally, something familiar to talk about. “You follow hockey?”
“Of course! I am a big hockey fan!”
“Cool.”
Meanwhile, they’re all throwing cards down in some pattern I can’t follow. I stare at my hand, completely lost.
“I saw the game with Davos.” Lars leans forward. “That save in the third period was good.”
“Thanks, man.” I feel myself relaxing a bit. Hockey fans are hockey fans, no matter the country. “That was a tough game.”
