Good board and card games are fun. Friends are fun. However, on account of too much fun often being bad, the two should never be combined for your own good.
I took out Monopoly one fine evening during pre-pandemic times whilst having people over. The funny pointing of fingers and lots of "winners takers, loser haters" ensued whenever favourable plots were bought by someone. Slight tension started building up when the rent collection began. Quick angry glares from people indicating the remembrance of rent collection when hotels are built by them might seem like empty threats, but they quickly become reality, and you find yourself broke and having to sell your property in order to barely survive. All thoughts of this just being a game then goes straight out the window, and your friend is suddenly a friend no longer, but a thief, a traitor.
Sensing the impending danger to our friendship with one another and to my friends' dismay, I halted Monopoly and suggested we play a different game instead. Little did I know; UNO wasn't exactly helpful to my cause and we were once again pitted against each other. How can something so fun be so detrimental to friendships? Well, the plus two cards and plus four cards are personal attacks, the latter capable of ruining trust in one turn. The act of stacking plus two cards directing them towards one person is unforgivable. Whether or not this act is even an actual rule in the game can cause very heated arguments. Some of my friends ended up going to take walks outside with others to cool their temper.
Aware of my next bad decision, but having a lack of options, I then brought out Ludo. After initially laughing things off, tempers escalated at almost every roll of the dice, either because someone was losing a game piece, or because no new game piece was added. Never did I ever think it was possible to loath another individual's progress so much, yet here I was hoping and praying for the worst possible dice roll for someone else. I was so consumed by the game that I lost track of my goal to keep our friendship intact, and actually let the game end. Once it did, the losing team marched out of the house in anger, while the winning team of my friends, except myself, left to go celebrate their win.
As I sat alone in the wreckage caused by board and card games, I realised just how dangerous a weapon they could be, capable of causing people you dislike to voluntarily leave. As for the damage I'd made to my friendships? My friends returned after celebrating our win. I'd also successfully gotten rid of those whom I am not too fond of.
Next? Snakes and ladders.
Bushra Zaman likes books, art, and only being contacted by email. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org