Why did I do it?
Was it frustration over a 1 heart contract we were in (down 2) that really belonged to West (made 3)? Or the lay down spade slam we didn't bid?
What else could have compelled me to rat out a compatriot, a fellow soldier in the sometimes cruel trenches of bridge?
Maybe it was as basic as hunger. The Life Masters had a catered party to celebrate one of their own and we speculated whether there was going to be an "invitation" in our future. Meanwhile, the ambrosia of creamy noodles dotted with tender pieces of beef made it's way into the non-life master room, determined and tenacious.
I wasted no time asking the director if (hypothetically, of course) a person had brought in a (low fat, ugh) peanut butter sandwich and some (stale, even ugher) potato chips for lunch, would that person be wise to leave said "lunch" in its crumpled brown bag with hopes of better things (nodding toward the room with noodles, naturally). A wink and a nod on her part sent my spirits soaring... so I waited.
But lo! Before our next round began, one of our opponents said she was in need of a cracker and marched right into the noodle room in search of one. Whoa! I said. Director! I said. Virginia (not her real name) is in the noodle room right now! Without invitation! After her!! And she did go after her. And Virginia was caught red-handed - or should I say "bread"-handed because, due to the absence of crackers, a roll was all she could purloin.
Oh, was she reprimanded! Oh, did I feel like we were back in kindergarten, mainly because that's where I belonged. I don't tattle-tale! I'm not like that! But all these forces were working against me and finally won out. Virginia was so mad she wouldn't eat the roll now "if it were the last bit of food on earth." I found her conviction admirable and offered to toss the roll in the trash for her.
It was the least I could do.