I remember mah jong through a haze of memory and my mother’s Benson & Hedges cigarette smoke.
These ladies who visited for mah jong were not part of my mother’s usual crowd, which was made up of immigrant Polish Jews who lapsed from English to Yiddish to Polish in one sentence, who were always with their husbands. These ladies were American. They went out on this night without their men and enjoyed the company of women, risqué enough even to gamble, albeit for pennies. Politely, they said hello to me, but they really just wanted to play the game, not waste time with my sister or me. We were dismissed, unable to watch our customary shows on the living room TV, and sent to bed where we listened to the cracking of the tiles, the excited tones of the voices of the players, and the most mysterious of all, their incant300300ations, one bam, two crack, three dot, east, west, dragon, and finally, victory, mah jong!.
The ladies were bold, going out at night and leaving their own husbands and children, crossing occidental world barriers by playing an Oriental game.
ONE BAM,TWO CRAK,MAH JONG IS BACK!
For those who have not yet become exposed to its enticing powers, mah jong (also spelled mah jongg) is a fast-moving game of skill, played by four people who compete against each other to create a very specific combination of tiles to make a “hand.”
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة Issue 61 من Greenwich Country Capitalist Magazine.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة Issue 61 من Greenwich Country Capitalist Magazine.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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