Somebody said somebody wouldn’t last too long, somebody’s still going strong.
Okay, lyrics to a long-forgotten song (anyone? Kelly?) are not the point of this. The point is this:
Today is game day in the library. Game day. I have games spread out on every table and am encouraging people to play. It’s working. Lot’s of gaming going on in here. I was surprised, actually, by the number of people willing to show up and play games. Generally speaking, activities are not über popular.
But, Jenga has been a huge hit. I kicked off game day by setting it up on the table right inside the door and getting it started. People were walking by, just randomly moving one piece. Like an ongoing, group Jenga match. Very cool. Later, a class came in and the whole class played Jenga. They did an awesome job, too (29 stories, even I was impressed).
Then, an instructor comes in. He’s a normal-ish guy, grew up locally, and is probably in his 50s. He sees Jenga on the table, walks over, looks at it and says, “what’s this, some sort of Rubik’s cube?”
I honestly didn’t think it was possible to know what a Rubik’s cube is and NOT know what Jenga is. Who doesn’t know what Jenga is? Maybe he’s Amish. Except, Jenga is made out of natural wood, probably even the Amish play Jenga by candlelight.
I say, “it’s Jenga.”
“Never heard of it,” he shrugged.
I quickly explain the game and then demonstrate a move.
“Go on, try it” I encourage. I am all about learning in the library.
“No thanks,” says he, “doesn’t really seem like fun.”
And he leaves. He literally made me show him how to play and then refused to try it. I’ve dropkicked children for behavior like that. (That was a joke, obviously. I don’t dropkick children. Too much effort.)
We are getting paid to play games in the library for student engagement. You’re right, that’s no fun at all. Know what else is no fun? Jenga haters. And child dropkickers.
I was tempted to call him back for a game of Battleship, but I was afraid I’d end up dropkicking HIM.
You sank my Battleship! And I told the students playing that awesome game that they had to say that phrase loudly and dramatically, if it actually happened. Hasn’t happened yet.
Lastly, a student mentioned to another student that he played an awesome card game this weekend and then proceeded to tell him all about it in one of those “had to be there” type of stories, but the worst kind where the teller doesn’t realize it’s a “had to be there” and they tell it in great detail, expecting the tellee to be laughing as hysterically as they are and, not getting the desired response, simply put more emphasis and more detail into the story, which somehow makes everything worse, in a spiraling, vicious circle of irresponsible storytelling. It’s painful to watch. More painful to participate in, but surprisingly painful to observe.
Then, when his tale grinds to a glacial halt, he turns to me and says “Why don’t we have Cards Against Humanity in here for game day?”