The "F" Game

My friend, Genny, is intelligent, compassionate, and genuinely hilarious. She runs a homeless shelter in the Philadelphia area. I guess that maybe keeps a lid on the mayhem might be a better single-phrase description of what it is exactly that she does. I could not do what Genny does. In essence, we do much of the same thing; we genuinely care about the wellbeing of those whom society would like to pretend do not exist.

When the guy was headed out of town a few weeks back, Philly was one of his destinations. Genny invited him to feel free to stop by the celebration of her mother’s eightieth birthday and observe the dysfunction. I related this to him and answered the resultant query of, “What is dysfunction?” At some point during our conversation that evening, Genny had mentioned a game that her parents had come up with a couple of years ago, the “F” game. Her mother has been in severe pain due to a growing cyst on her spine. Surgery is the only remedy. Until all the consults could be completed and the procedure scheduled, her mother dealt with the severity of the pain by taking narcotics in the evening and playing the “F” game during the day to help cope with the misery.

Apparently the “F” game was invented a couple of years ago after her parents went to see a movie. Apparently, just about every other word in the dialogue of the movie was “fuck.” On the way home afterwards, Genny’s dad had turned to her mother and asked how she had liked the fucking movie. The “F” game was born. Genny cited a couple of instances of the “F” game. Omg! I was rolling!! Being that neither Genny nor I is quite right in the head, we thought it would be hilarious to play a round of the “F” game with Al the next time we all had a three-way chat online. Now, Al isn’t quite right in the head either, so we knew that he would be appalled but able to appreciate the gag once we had let him in on it.

Well, we ended up playing a round of the “F” game the other night. Genny and I laughed so hard we were in stitches. I commented to her in IM that it was a good thing that neither of us lived with other humans because they would surely think us to be mad. She said that Ringo, her cockatoo, was laughing as hysterically as she was. Being that her sliding door was open, she hoped that the neighbors didn’t hear them. We chatted briefly last night. Her neighbors had indeed heard the laughter and had been laughing themselves because Genny and Ringo were laughing so uncontrollably. I commented that it was a pity that we hadn’t archived the chat as it was a classic twisted moment. As it turned out, the chat was archived. Fucking-a yippee!!

After we had let Al in on the “F” game and its origin, he began to type every word with the letter “m” as its first letter. I had to respond that I had a patient who just talked like that. That, of course, inspired Al to get sillier with his statements. Genny asked if I could actually understand my patient who talked like this. Yes, I can, on those rare occasions when he will actually speak slowly. I told Al that all he needed to do to make the impersonation perfect was to stand his hair on end and put his glass eye in backwards. (Al doesn’t have a glass eye, but my patient does.)

So, that’s the synopsis of the “F” game. I suggest you try it out when you get the suitable opportunity. It’s a blast.

Today is the guy’s birthday. I sent him a quick e-card this morning. As it came from my yahell email addy, I had to send him an email from my usual addy telling him not to delete the card. As of his email yesterday afternoon, he was 98% moved. I offered several times to help, but no amount of reasoning, logic, or common sense was breaking through that cultural bias. He was not about to be the only African man on the face of the planet with a woman carrying furniture to the third floor. LOL I made my final offer with an email Monday and then let it drop. It wasn’t worth an argument. Guess that’s about it for now. More drek and drivel later.