Hey, folks get older over time, despite all their best efforts. We did the same thing - we being my wife G and I, along with our friends Jim and Phyllis. We were university friends, double dated back then, attended each other's weddings within a year, and have mutually vacationed, visited, kept in touch over the years, despite our careers taking us to homes hundreds of miles away - me in the small town South, he in the big city North.
We're now in our early early-retirement years and kid ourselves that we've attained "geezer" years (in some opinions), while not feeling that way at all. We're all in pretty excellent health, if you disregard the usual minor aches and pains. We stay active, albeit less active than we used to - no more tackle football on the lawn, and our tennis games have morphed into pickle ball, sigh. None of us is overweight enough to matter, but G and I are on the slim side, while Jim and Phyllis could each stand to lose ten pounds - my opinion only - they may just think we're anorexic. My G is classic slim brunette - 5'7', long fingers, long neck, graceful shape, wears her straight blonde hair relatively short, and has let it go to graying without pretense.
She makes clothes look good, and sometimes in warm weather I find myself up in the dark hours, just watching her body with the covers kicked off, the skin smooth, the curves curvy. I haven't tired of that yet, after 30-plus years of her company, and don't expect to any time soon. As for me, I'm just the lanky sidekick in my view - still amazed to have "married up" in so many ways.
Jim's Phyllis, on the other hand, is more zaftig, in fact, maybe the essence of zaftig - think Mae West in her very slightly slimmer days but very brunette - with a Mae West personality at times as well. She's "a hoot," according to our neighbors who've met her. Jim is also an extrovert compared to G and me, not as much as Phyllis. The two of them can command a conversation all night long, not in a bad way, just in a manner that G and I sort of sit back and watch in bemusement at times. I'm sure that we two couples end up appearing mismatched to the outside observer, but we're fast friends and who cares about outside observers anyway! Oh, and we're all Caucasian, Jim and Phyllis harking to their Italian sides, G and I more Germanic.
Last summer we got together in Memphis, eager to sample the legendary barbeque and music. It was hot, naturally, and we were fine with that. Day 1 was dedicated tourist day, so we took in Graceland, ate at the Rendezvous, strolled Mud Island, and hit Beale Street. Graceland was just not our thing, and we didn't expect it to be - just something one should do once in one's life, and Elvis was definitely one of a kind, so it was fun. Beale Street was a letdown, having turned into a tourist hell of rip-off drink prices, too loud music, way too young (for us geezers) a crowd, and a tinselly vibe that made me think of, but not in a good way, Bourbon Street. Anyway, it was a good day, fun most all around, and it was a relief to get back to the downtown classic Peabody Hotel, where we'd sprung for the high priced lodging Later, it became advantageous that the hotel had put us in next-door suites, way up high, with great views and plush furnishings.
Day 2 was much more sedate, a drive-around the area, more barbeque for lunch, and a baseball game in the downtown stadium in the early afternoon. Very Americana. Semi-stuffed from hot dogs and beer, we agreed to pass on a dinner and just order in some light room service in Jim and Phyllis's suite. We'd made sure we stocked the place with a run by a wine & liquor store along the drive, to avoid room service rates for drinks, and with ice bucket full, we were all set for the evening.
Except it became clear, after some snacks and several rounds of drinks, that we really had no plan - that was fine, but watching TV seemed too blah, and we just weren't up to going back out. We knew how to small talk and had done plenty of that already.
Finally, Jim suggested we have a shot at playing a game of something. No cards around, and board/card games not really being our thing, Jim suggested something he'd heard about that folks played: "Never Have I Ever." G and I had, like lots of folks I suppose, seen various online popups and postings scoring how many of various activities one had done or not done - places visited, thrills sought, that sort of thing.
Jim said, "From what I can glean, we set a penalty - a drink, say - and we rotate turns around the table. The caller has to say something he or she really never has done. If it's my turn, I might say, 'Never have I ever ridden an elephant,' and if someone, or 2 or 3 of us, actually has ridden an elephant, all who've done that have to take a drink. If nobody's ridden an elephant, everybody has to drink, and then it's the next person's turn."
"I've probably had enough beer from the game and wine since, thank you," said G, with only a slight slur to her voice, "and I sure don't want to start doing shooters or something!"
"Hey, ok," I interjected, "how about just sips of wine or whatever - you can drink as much or as little as you like. Besides, you're always saying you've led such a sheltered life, you probably won't drink much at all - it'll be Jim here who gets wasted!" I laughed, then added, "besides, it's more a life-story sharing thing than a drinking game."
"Just to spice it up," Jim said, "If nobody's done it, in addition to the drink, we all pledge to try it, or something close to it - and no dangerous activities allowed - at our next opportunity - how about that? That'll keep the caller from trying out something he or she wouldn't do anyway."
"So if no one's ridden an elephant, we all drink now and then try to find one to ride as soon as we reasonably can?"
"Yeah, and first one to do whatever it is reports back to the group and gets adventurous bragging rights!" Jim laughed.
I chimed in, "I'm not sure about that part, but ok, I'm in - Phyllis, you've been silent, your thoughts?"
"Oh, I'm used to Jim's antics, so yeah, I'm in - he's harmless, and I think this will be both harmless and maybe even fun - not much else to do anyway."
"G?" I asked.
G looked at Phyllis, Phyllis nodded encouragement, and G said, "OK, ok, I'm in" - not very enthusiastically, though.
And so it began, after a break for nature and for Jim and I setting up wine glasses all around, white for the ladies, red for us guys. Regathered, Jim kicked things off with "I've never parachuted!"
"I have," I admitted, having a long, scary story about having tried that once, and having sworn off since. G and Phyllis hadn't. I think all 3 had heard my tale at one time or another, so it was a setup by Jim, but I took it in stride and took a healthy swallow of wine.
The turn passed to G, who was puzzled, still trying to digest just how the game was played. "Uh, Never Have I Ever... ah... had a baby girl!"
Our kids were both male, and we knew that Jim and Phyllis had a son and a daughter, so G was safe, as was I, and the two of them genially quaffed some wine.
"Sort of almost not quite cheating there, G," Jim said, chuckling. "Let's try not to do setups, ok?"
"Says the guy who hasn't parachuted!" I laughed, exposing him at his own game. We all laughed, but we all pretty much accepted that we'd try to avoid things we already knew about regarding the others.
Over to me for a turn, I challenged: "Never have I ever... been in a car wreck that was deemed to have been my fault." I carefully worded it, and waited for the replies.
"OK," Phyllis said, taking a drink, as did Jim, as did G.
"G! When and how was that?" I asked, not knowing anything about it.
