It’s my guilty pleasure and OK, I admit it, my obsession. This little word game, so simple and yet challenging, so eager for me to log on via my iphone or ipad, beckons beguilingly with its shiny yellow icon: Play with me. Yes, you have time for a quick game. Just one. I promise.
I was destined to love this game. A linguistics major in college and lifelong crossword puzzle enthusiast, I find pure delight in a five syllable word. I heart alliteration. Onomatopoeia? I’m the geek who knows what that means. Now I no longer have to wait for the Sunday Times puzzle to give my vocabulary a workout. With my mobile device at the ready, I can blissfully play Words with Friends anytime I want.
My opponents are mostly nameless, faceless entities with names like Miss_Sixty, Crzy432 and Phatman. I am mildly curious about who they are, where they are from, are they anything like me? There is rarely conversation, aside from an intermittent “Good one!” or “Is that really a word?” With the occasional brilliant move on my part, I sense frustration, or even skepticism, seething through cyberspace. Is my opponent regretting this game? Does WhiskyGurl223 think I am, gasp, cheating?
I have been known to whisper “Aha!” with the magic combination of letters that allows words like squint and ziti. I sometimes resort to the usual crossword puzzle gems, like qi, etui and tav. It is often these smaller words that garner the most points if strategically placed on a triple letter square. Forget showing off with a flashy long word that opens up a counter attack. I learned that strategy early on.
So if you dare, hit me up on Words with Friends at hbludman. One caveat (warning): although I may appear ursine (bearlike) and prolix (verbose) or resemble a diva (prima donna), that is merely a facade (illusion). In truth, I am a mensch (good person).
Let the games begin.