Girls Don’t Talk About Chess

I’m feeling vaguely ashamed again, and as usual I don’t quite know why. I think I must have overstepped a subtle social barrier, plunged myself into the usual minority of one.

Here’s what happened: I went to someone’s house. In with half a dozen or so other women, all of whom I know and like as individuals, but I can’t say I always fit in with the group. On a table beside where I sat, I noticed a large antique chess set. The pieces were little replicas of early 19th-century soldiers, and the kings had to be Napoleon and Wellington by the way they were dressed.

“Oh wow, that’s an amazing chess set,” I said, staring.
“I could never play chess,” someone remarked. “It’s hard. All the pieces do different things.” 

“Oh yes, chess is hard,” the others all agreed. Unanimously. I’m middle-aged and I’m still trying to figure out why a group of women always has to be unanimous about everything. I am never unanimous. Even when I talk to myself, I don’t often reach agreement. 

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