I am writing this 36 hours after the events of last Wednesday's game night, and I want the record to reflect my version of what transpired before others have the opportunity to characterize the evening in a manner that is, to put it generously, incomplete.

I will try to be as objective as possible. I understand that I am a party to the events in question, and I understand that my perspective is, by definition, subjective. That said, I believe in documentation. I believe in getting things on the record. And I believe that a fair reading of the facts will support my position.

Background

The Wednesday night mahjong circle meets at the Glenwood Community Center, as it has every Wednesday for the past three years. On this particular evening, the attendees were myself, Linda, Diane Kowalski, Howard Chen, Gary and Sue Feldman, and a newer member whose first name I believe is Todd. Seven players, which necessitates a rotation. Linda and I were seated at the same table (which, yes, draws commentary, but we've addressed that before and I won't revisit it here).

The atmosphere at the start of the evening was normal. Pleasant, even. Sue had brought brownies. Howard was in good spirits. Gary was talking about his garden. Everything was fine.

The Incident

The incident occurred during Game 7 of the evening. The specifics of the hand are relevant, so I'll describe them with as much precision as I can:

I was building a consecutive run hand in the 3-7 crak range. I had exposed a pung of 4-craks (two natural, one joker) and was waiting on either a 3-crak or a 7-crak to extend the hand. The game was in the middle phase—probably draw 9 or 10—and the tension at the table was typical mid-game levels.

Gary Feldman, who was seated across from me, discarded a 5-crak.

This was a tile I did not need. The 5-crak is not part of my hand's structure. However, as I looked at the discard, I also noticed that Gary had, on his rack, been building what appeared to be a very strong hand. He had two exposed sets already—a pung of winds and a kong of dots—and based on his discard pattern, I believed he was close to completing.

What happened next is, I will concede, where reasonable people may disagree about the sequence of events.

I reached for the 5-crak.

I want to be very clear about what I mean by "reached for." I extended my hand toward the discard pile. I did not touch the tile. I did not make a verbal call. I was, in my recollection, in the process of deciding whether to claim the tile—not because I needed it, but because I wanted to expose another set to increase my hand's scoring potential, potentially using a joker to form a pung.

At this point, Gary said, loudly, "You touched it. That's a call."

I did not touch the tile. I am confident in this. My hand moved toward it, but there was no contact. I stated this clearly: "I didn't touch it."

Gary insisted. Diane, who was seated to my right, said she "thought maybe I had" but wasn't sure. Howard declined to comment. Linda said she couldn't see clearly from her position.

The disagreement escalated.

What Followed

I will not detail every exchange because some things are better left in the moment. What I will say is this:

Voices were raised. Gary made a comment about my "integrity" that I found deeply offensive. I responded with language that, in reflection, was stronger than I would prefer. The table became tense. Sue attempted to mediate. She is, generally, good at mediating. In this instance, it was not sufficient.

At some point during the exchange, I stood up. I have been told that when I stood up, I made contact with the table, and that this contact caused several tiles to shift on their racks. I was not aware of this at the time. If it happened, it was inadvertent. The table at the Glenwood Community Center has a known stability issue—one of the legs is shorter than the others, which has been addressed with a folded napkin as a shim. This shim has been dislodged on previous occasions. I have raised this issue with the group on at least four separate occasions, and my suggestion that we invest in a proper replacement table has been tabled (figuratively) each time.

To address the question directly: I did NOT flip the table. The table did not flip. The table tilted. Tiles shifted. This is a physical consequence of the table's instability, not a deliberate action on my part. Anyone suggesting that I "flipped the table" is either mistaken or misrepresenting the event.

Gary's rack did fall over. His tiles went on the floor. This is unfortunate, and I understand his frustration. But the rack did not fall because I flipped the table. The rack fell because the table tilted, and the table tilted because of a structural issue with the table itself.

The Aftermath

The game did not continue that evening. Gary and Sue left. Howard and Diane stayed for a few minutes but the mood was not conducive to play. Linda and I helped clean up the tiles. I gathered the tiles from the floor near Gary's chair. I handled them carefully, because the tiles belong to the Glenwood Community Center and they are not ours to mistreat.

I have not spoken to Gary since Wednesday. I have left two voicemails, neither of which has been returned. I sent an email this morning expressing my hope that we can resolve this matter civilly and suggesting that we reconvene next Wednesday to discuss the incident with the full group present, ideally with a neutral third party to facilitate.

Gary has not responded to the email.

Where I Stand

I want to state clearly: I regret that the evening ended the way it did. Mahjong is supposed to be enjoyable. The Wednesday circle is supposed to be a community. I value the community, and I value the relationships I've built at this table.

At the same time, I stand by my position that I did not touch the tile and therefore did not make a call. The subsequent events were unfortunate but not, in my assessment, primarily of my making.

I have consulted with a colleague of mine who has experience in dispute resolution, and he has advised me to document the incident in writing (hence this blog post) and to remain open to dialogue. I am following that advice.

Should the matter require further action, I am prepared to explore all available options. I hope it doesn't come to that.

Looking Forward

I will attend next Wednesday's game unless I receive communication from Gary that suggests otherwise. I will bring my own tiles as a precaution, in case the question of equipment integrity arises again. I will bring a copy of the NMJL rules regarding "calling" tiles for reference. And I will approach the evening with an open mind and a willingness to move past this.

If the group wishes to discuss the incident, I am prepared to participate in that discussion constructively. If the group wishes to move on, I am prepared to do that as well.

Thank you for reading. I know this is different from the usual content on this blog. But this blog is about mahjong, and mahjong is about the people who play it. And sometimes the people part gets complicated.

— Bob Loblaw, Attorney at Tiles

Update (5/21/04): Gary returned my call this afternoon. We spoke for approximately twenty minutes. I will not share the details of that conversation publicly, but I will say that I am cautiously optimistic that we can resolve this matter between ourselves. I have agreed to let the question of the table repair drop for now, though I maintain that it should be addressed. More to follow as warranted.