Monopoly - Not So Family Friendly

I love to play Monopoly. It is officially my favorite board game. I remember playing it when I was younger with my family and it was always my brother who would win. Well, if you consider him pissing everyone off, causing us all to just quit, winning. I learned, later in life, that Monopoly is not supposed to be a game where everyone gets along and plays nice. It is a ruthless climb to the top. It is a no holds barred match. Again, I will reiterate, I love to play Monopoly.

On Saturday night, after a rousing 70th birthday celebration for my mom (Thank God my dad did not plan it or I would be writing "My Dad Throws a Killer Party Part 2) some of us decided to head to my brother Jeff's house to relax and mingle amongst ourselves. My two sisters had come from out of town, one from out of state, so it turned into more of a family reunion. Evelyn was there also. It was officially a "family affair...me and my familia." It is always nice to be around loved ones. All the guys were huddled around Jeff's huge television, watching the Yankees game (notice I said Yankees game and not the Angels game. I loathe the Angels). This cavemen-watching-fire-like display caused the women to choose a different source of entertainment. In comes Rich Uncle Moneybags' smiling face on the Monopoly box. The women started their game as the men watched the Angels end their game in loser fashion.

The Yankees beat the Angels. I, along with my mom, were the only two people cheering for the Yankees. I had swindled my mom into cheering for the Yankees somehow, so we were hooting and hollering. Since that game had ended, I headed over to the Monopoly game. I was thinking that I would be seeing houses built, and stacks of cash. To my dismay, the girls were playing the nicest Monopoly game I had ever encountered. There was no yelling. There was no bashing. There was no hate-mongering. Just four ladies being polite and nice as they rolled the dice. I asked Evelyn, if I could sit in for a few rolls of the dice. She was ok with it and I was off. (I should have mentioned that the weekend prior to this one, I had played Monopoly with Evelyn and some friends of ours who were visiting from San Diego. I won that game but pissed off Evelyn in the process. I am guessing, having me on her team would be better than having to play against me. I would hate to play against me also.) I started by making pivotal trades with my niece in order to gain an important third property. I then started building my small empire on the light blue properties. With every roll of the dice, the other players would feel my wrath. One house, two houses, three houses, four. I cut deals with everyone and in the process got louder and more annoying. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am that serious about Monopoly. I was so loud and obnoxious that I pissed off my niece. So much in fact, that she quit playing. She gave her properties away, and left the table. I should have felt bad but the Monopoly fever had blinded my judgement. I had turned into Rich Uncle Douchebag.

After that happened, no one really wanted to play anymore. I was getting silently booed by everyone at the table and in the room. My sister-in-law scolded me saying that my niece was upset. "She is only fourteen dude! What the hell is your problem? It's just a game!" I looked to Evelyn for support. The look in her eye told me to find a new support group for this. Was there a MA (Monopoly Anonymous) meeting I could attend that night? The game was put away to avoid a repeat in the night's history.

Monopoly has the reputation of instilling anger in one's heart. Take my dad for example. He does not know how to play the board game of Monopoly. However, when McDonald's started their Monopoly game at their restaurants, my dad was playing it seriously. Him and my mom would go to McDonald's almost everyday for dinner just so my dad could collect more game pieces to add to his faux board game. He had collected a good amount and was hoping to come up and win big.

One day, back in the day, I was hanging out with my friend Pungu. We were in my room playing Super Mario Kart (another game that is a drama builder). All of a sudden we hear my dad cussing in Spanish. My dad rarely cusses. Well more than rarely but this time he was cussing out of rage.

"A donde estan piesas de monopoly?!?! Uta madre!"

Pungu and I looked at each other, confused and somewhat frightened that my dad's rampage would reach my room. Sure enough, daddy dearest walks in and continues his tirade:

"A donde estan mis piesas de monopoly?!?!? Quien se las llevo??"

"Dad, I don't know where they are. Miraste en la chinera?"

"Ya mire y no estan! Yo se que alguien se me las robo. Fueron tus amigos!"

He said that pointing at Pungu and Pungu took this as his cue to exit the premises. Poor Pungu.

There was no "poor Pungu" in my dad's mind. He was livid about not knowing where his version of the Holy Grail was. He turned the house upside down looking for his game pieces. It took about an hour of "your friends stole my game pieces" and "Uta madre"s before he remembered that he had taken his game card to work and left it in his truck.

Monopoly is great.