Table for Four

I went to bed around 2am last night, when those people living in the next flat, known as my neighbors, were playing midnight mahjong. Woke up this morning and they were still playing. I don't know if they had taken anything more than washroom breaks in between, but it is now 3pm and the noise hasn't stopped once.

For those of you who are not familiar with the game, it can be quite noisy. The way most Chinese people play anyway. Actually, most Chinese people are just noisy whatever they're doing. It would help if mahjong tiles were made of cork or Styrofoam or rubber or something. But as a player myself, I've tried playing with a set of paper mahjong before, and the quietness practically takes all the excitement away. But still, I would've thought the term "neighbor" implies that they'd be more "neighborly" than to start their world record-breaking marathon in the middle of a week. Not that I have to get up early in the morning or anything, but still. And this is yet another alarming indication that just about everyone is going jobless nowadays.

I can't swim and I can't ride a bike, but I can play mahjong. I never went through any training, I simply learned from observing. My parents and their families played regularly when I was little, so mahjong skills were one of the things carried on along with the family name. I can't say I have mastered the art though, for mahjong is half scheme and half luck. I seize little of one and know none of the other, so I usually end up losing big bucks.

It's been long said that because of the complications involved in the intriguing game, habitual mahjong playing would persistently stimulate brain activities and could well contribute preventive measures to Alzheimer's disease, or at least postpone the emergence of correlated symptoms. As such, I have no excuse to turn down my 85-year-old grandmother whenever she invites me for a match. And it is the only endeavor she still manages to stick with for hours at a time without falling asleep; she can even skip her afternoon nap for it.

On the other hand, I've heard numerous stories about older people dying of heart attacks on the mahjong table by winning with a hand apparently too nice to handle. But hey, when you're old and have heart problems, there really isn't a better way to kick the bucket. At least, this way, you'll die a winner and live forever as a legend.


Chew on this: What's your favorite sound? (Spit it out in the comments section.)

ME: I've been asked this question before and the answer remains unchanged to this day. My favorite sound is my laughter. I enjoy hearing other people laugh too, but there can only be one favorite. (Yeah, selfish bitch I am.) I laugh loud about small things; it's a good way to release all the pent-up you-name-it from inside. I can be reading an article on TIME magazine and break out in one of my frantic laughs. And I can get carried away sometimes, but only when I'm really happy.