Dial back to the early 1980's, and like many families at the time, my parents went out at purchased one of the original Trivial Pursuit games. We always played card games, and had the normal collection of Monopoly, Scrabble, Sorry and Yahtzee.
For an 18 year old kid, this was not an easy game, as it took knowledge, which was limited, as opposed to skill or luck.
Enter my bestest buddy. She was coming out to our house to pick me up, so we could go back to her place for the night. She fondly referred to my parents as "The Wardens", as she had experienced their controlling ways several times. My parents always liked my best friend. They thought she was well mannered and smart. They hoped she would be a positive influence on me. HAHAHAHAHA
Before we were allowed to leave, we had to endure a game of Trivial Pursuit. Just remembering this, causes a deep sigh and rolling eyes, and then a giggle. The teams for our game were two adults against two teenage girls not wanting to be there.
As can be expected, the game took a long time to play. We, being the teenagers, did pretty well, moving around the board, and filling up our marker with the little colourful pie shapes. I have always hated landing on the brown space. Except for this particular game. Dad pulls out our card, and reads our question with a grin on his face. "What does SNAFU mean?". I had never heard of this acronym before that moment. I thought this was going to be yet another failed attempt at the elusive brown pie piece, when suddenly beside me, my shy and quiet team mate slams her hand on the table to exclaim "Situation normal, all f'd up". Dad's jaw dropped. Mom's eyes popped, and if I had been drinking anything, it would have been spewed all over the table and game board as I burst out laughing in shock.
Now, much to Dad's chagrin, we have all of our pieces and are heading for the centre of the board, to end our misery and be on our way. When we finally get to the middle, the opposition gets to pick the question colour. Of course, Dad opts for brown, and draws the next card. He reads the question to himself, grinning and exclaiming how we will "never get this one". While I can't find the actual wording of the question, the premise was to name the controversial New York Times Bestseller, written by Masters and Johnson. Again, I sit there thinking that the curse of the brown widget has beat us, when again, a hand slams on the table beside me, and a squeal saying "oh oh, I know this one.....The Joy of Sex". I look across the table, to see those now familiar expressions of shock.
The game ended. We had won. We offered to help clean up the game, but were told not to worry about it. We grabbed our things and left, laughing all the way back to town. Nothing was ever said about this game again. I wonder what was said after we left. Oh to be a fly on the wall.
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