As an extrovert, I see the little, seemingly meaningless intimacies I develop with the strangers I see nearly every day are like the little pops of flavor I get from a tapioca bubble in boba or the caper salt bombs in a pasta. They are not quite the life-giving jolts of energy I get from an hourslong kiki with a friend, but they are enough to sustain a zombielike state until I can be replenished at a lively dinner or party. I’m talking about a smile from the kind security lady at the office, or the song and dance I do with the owner of Tara, a Frenchie who is also my dog’s nemesis, or that cute kid I see all the time zooming around on his scooter who says hi to me. I’m also talking about Crossplay. Every day for the last month, I have been nudged to take my turn by “Dave td,” to my mild annoyance, but I take it in stride because the game is fun: HEAVEN, WIVE, ZITS, DELUGE. I will be sad when this game is over. I will miss “Dave td.” But months ago, when “Nadine” nudged me after laying down a 63-point word on her first turn — and I can no longer remember the word because I was so humiliated by my defeat — I decreed that anyone who used the nudge was too serious to be a friend. “Cicada” also defeated me, but their username is cute and their profile picture is a leaf, and so I felt they had a gentle character. The month before, I engaged in a fierce and long battle against PilatesGirl, who I decided probably looked great in a pastel spandex matching set in a way I never could and so must be defeated on behalf of couch potatoes everywhere. It was a very close and fun game. (I won.) I occasionally worry about this habit of mine to anthropomorphize, parasocialize, dramatize and generally concern myself with things outside the immediate task at hand: to lay down letter tiles to make words worth more points than the other person does. But for me, doing so makes everything a lot more fun. The stakes are higher. Sure, I may lose a game, but what if the words played are funny or beautiful? Then we both win, and we have become friends without ever speaking. If the game becomes a spitefully mathematical contest of AEs and QIs, we both lose, and we are enemies. If anyone nudges, we both should go lie in a sunbeam for a second. If you need a mean word to win, then you lose. Everyone plays puzzles for their personal reasons and personal aims. Mine is almost always to do whatever must be done to have the most fun. If that means imagining characters and creating my own house rules, so be it. How do you play Crossplay? Let us know via email: crosswordeditors@nytimes.com. Solve Today’s Capture
Column of the WeekThis week, Pete Blair, who runs the Flexible Editing desk at The Times, wrote: “The feeling of perfectly completing a crossword puzzle with a ballpoint pen is nothing short of exhilarating. But I’m usually not a perfect solver. More often than not, my finished puzzles contain a blemish or two: a word or words I entered too confidently or prematurely, letters that needed to be creatively contorted into other letters.” Solve today’s puzzle.
How are we doing? We’d love your feedback on this newsletter. Please email thoughts and suggestions to crosswordeditors@nytimes.com. Thanks for playing! Subscribe to New York Times Games. Want to see more of The New York Times in your Google search results?
|
