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By January Gordon Ornellas

I have a lot of obsessions: running, wine, running with wine, succulents, The Bachelor (don’t judge me) and my most recent...

WWF.

No, not the World Wrestling Federation. 

But thank you for thinking I could compete at that level.

WWF is Words With Friends.

Harmless, right?

Harmless like heroin.

I blame my friend, Linda, who visited last weekend.

Over the course of her stay, we played multiple Scrabble games.

The competition was fierce.

Think gladiators with wooden tiles.

“You should get Words With Friends,” she suggested. “Then we could play each other.”

Do I dare?

Oh, I dared.

On Sunday, I installed Words with Friends on my phone.

On Monday, I received my first notification: It’s Your Turn!

LT (Linda) had challenged me to a game.

What a rush!

Over the course of the next few days, LT and I played multiple games.

She threw down words like quad, oxide and zigged.

I countered with blazer, capote and loq.

But I was no match for this word whiz, who put down chitin for a triple word score.

Are you chitin me?!

Once the game was over, I received a notification: YOU LOST! 

As if the all caps and exclamation point wasn’t enough of a kicker, it was accompanied by LT’s smiling face.

The folks at WWF are a sadistic bunch.

Maybe I should play someone easier.

Ethel57 and Junebugs64 invited me to play.

But It’s not called Words With Strangers.

I continued to play LT.

Every time my phone pinged, I salivated like some Pavlovian dog.

You thought a gender reveal was exciting?

Try a word reveal!

On my screen, new letters appeared, accompanied by an upbeat xylophone tune. The bloopity-bloop sound seemed to say, GO FOR THAT TRIPLE WORD SCORE!

Believe me, I tried.

Unfortunately, I keep ending up with all consonants.

Last game, I had v, y, g, b, l, t, z.

“I’d like to buy a vowel,” I whispered into my phone.

Unfortunately, this game did not come with a Vanna.

Even more unfortunate is that it’s now Friday, and I’ve been on a five-day bender.

Plans cancelled, housework neglected, stories unwritten.

I know what I have to do.

Goodbye, LT.

Sayonara, Ethel 57.

It’s been nice knowing you, Junebugs64.

But then…

Bloopity-bloop!

Well…

Maybe just one more game.

— January Gordon Ornellas

January Gordon Ornellas is a comedy writer whose stories include everything from colonoscopies to triathlons (equally torturous). Her article, “Rookie’s Triathlon Lessons,” appeared in the LA Times (June 2019). Two of her other stories, “Gobble, Gobble” and “Almost Taken,” were recently published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Laughter is the Best Medicine (April 2020). She is currently working on a book, My Nest Runneth Over. January also enjoys writing for her blog (midlifebloomer.com), traveling and spending time with her husband and two adult daughters.