Knight to King…zzzzzzzzzzz

King me, then tuck me in

A recent news story by Reuters reports that a champion chess player fell asleep during one of his matches.

These are two words seldom used in the same sentence:  “news” and “chess. A chess player hasn’t made news since the decline of Bobby Fischer, but hold on to your pawns…

Chess Grandmaster Vladislav Tkachiev made news when he fell asleep during a match in Kolkata, India against Indian chess player Praveen Kumar.

It seems that Tkachiev is a fan of the spirits. He was, reportedly, so drunk that he could barely sit up in his chair. So 11 moves into the match, Tkachiev could no longer pretend that his desire to checkmate was stronger than his desire to catch some sleep it off. What’s surprising is the fact that he didn’t hurl all over the chessboard.

The question is how did Tkachiev complete his moves up to the point he when he fell asleep? Did the strong scent of Vodka propel his pieces to where he wanted them on the board? Or perhaps the motto where he learned the game isn’t “Sometimes you gotta play hurt,” but rather, “Sometimes you gotta play drunk.” But an intoxicated person rarely does anything remotely intelligent, and playing chess while drunk is like flying a 747 while blind.

It can be difficult to stay awake during normal chess-playing circumstances, but add alcohol to the equation and it becomes impossible, as Mr. Tkachiev has probably learned.

Anyone who has ever played chess knows that waiting for a strategy-conscious opponent to make his/her move can sometimes be interminable. This is why chess timers are used in chess tournaments and by those who are serious about playing the game. It’s hard to fall asleep in 2 minutes…unless you’re wasted.

Tkachiev’s situation surely gives new meaning to the trash-talking brag line, “I can take you in my sleep!”

Nevertheless, Kumar won the match in the chess equivalent of a TKO on the grounds that Tkachiev was unable to finish his moves. Considering the fact that chess is, ostensibly, a war board game, the consequence of a TKO loss is tame.

Had Tkachiev fallen asleep on the battlefield, there would be no question about living to drink another day.

Now that he’s played Sleepy, Praveen Kumar’s next match will be against Dopey.

You’re Not Drinkin’ Enough If…

Hello, Vodka, it's me, stammering

You can still dial this number.

The number is 1-877-Jail-Fon. It’s a hilarious new free phone service that lets drinkers practice their one phone call from jail before they actually need it. This is supposed to function as a deterrent to drinking and driving. It doesn’t help that the guy on the main menu recording sounds like Billy Mays, the Oxiclean guy. His voice always makes me want to reach for the tequila.

After making a choice from the main menu, the caller is connected to actors who deliver the lines that might be said by the person a drunk driver calls from jail. The callers can press  numbers and listen to various records from 5 people in his/her life, from “angry wife/girlfriend” to “disapproving father” to “slacker roommate.”

Between a series of beeps, the caller can insert his/her own responses to the pre-recorded side of the conversation. Excerpts from the wife/girlfriend end of the conversation include:

“And you couldn’t get a ride from a sober friend”
“Oh, that’s right; I’ve met your friends”
“Me and your bail money are going to have a spa day!”
“I’ve still got a figure; I have options”

This might explain why the guy (or girl — you never know) is drinking and driving. That relationship is going the distance for sure. Way to support the team, SpazMonica!

But, by far, the funniest (and saddest) conversation has to be with the “hysterical mother.” Oozing with self-serving, social paranoia and victim-hood, with an added unhealthy dose of guilt, this “mother” throws out lines like:

“How could you do this to me?”
“Was I such an awful mother?”
“This is gonna look bad for me. You know how people talk”
“It’s all my fault”

But the kicker has to be:

“I should have never let you learn to drive!”

Nice! Way to go! Hey, Hysterical Mother, guess what? It’s not about you. Your kid’s in jail! Put down the snot rag, close the bag you’re packing for the guilt trip, and say something supportive! Now we know what kind of mother Lady MacBeth would have been.

Possession of a driver’s license is definitely linked to drunk driving. Just like wearing eyeglasses leads to watching porn. It’s circuitous logic at best.

Needless to say, Jail-Fon is a great idea. I only wish the spaces between the beeps (where the caller gets to respond) were longer.  I went through every choice on the menu, trying to offer responses to the invective and words of ridicule being thrown at me. Not knowing what was coming next or how long I’d have to respond definitely disarmed me. I felt like a gin-soaked loser with no excuses.

Then came the mini-bout of nervous laughter, like when someone else’s mother yells at you. You want to scream into the receiver, “Hey! You’re not the boss of me, witch!”

If the sponsors of this service really wanted to kick it up a notch, they would have the potential drunk drivers’ actual family members record responses. My discomfort from the tongue-lashing from a stranger only goes so far. But if the responses were thus:

Significant Other: You really expect me to pay your bail? You must be out of your f-in’ mind. Your presence ain’t worth that much to me! Maybe you’ll lose some weight on that bread and water diet, Wo-Manatee!

Mother: Did you drink the last of my Martel Cognac? Now what is your little sister going to pour over her cereal? Do you think about anyone besides yourself? I don’t wanna see you ’til my next birthday.

You can listen to one of the Jail-Fon recordings online here.

Call 1-877-Jail-Fon today. You’ll laugh just like the last time you got stoned and watched “Showgirls.”