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Do You Have to Do the Second Charleston in Mahjong?

· 6 min read

No. The second Charleston is optional, and any one player at the table can stop it. She doesn't need a majority, a reason, or anybody's permission.

The first Charleston is required. Three passes, three tiles each, no opting out. After those three are done, the table decides whether to keep going, and "the table decides" means unanimously. One woman says "stop" and it stops.

Most beginners have no idea this is true. They sit through six passes of a Charleston nobody wanted because they assumed it was mandatory, quietly handing away the two tiles they needed.

What the passes actually are

The Charleston is ROLLOR. Right Over Left, Left Over Right.

The first Charleston: right, over, left. Three tiles to the player on your right. Three tiles to the player opposite you. Three tiles to the player on your left.

The second Charleston, if it happens, runs the other way: left, over, right.

That's the whole shape of it, and if you learn one word today, learn ROLLOR, because it's what a real teacher says at a real table and it will save you from the panicked half second where everyone is passing and you've frozen.

So when exactly can you stop it?

After the first left. Not before.

You can't stop the first Charleston partway through because your rack looks promising. Those three passes are compulsory and the table will not entertain your negotiation. Once all three are complete, anyone can call it.

The timing after that is tight, and it's where tables actually argue.

You have to say "stop" before anyone has looked at the tiles from the second left. Once the second Charleston has started and tiles have been seen, it's begun, and a begun Charleston gets finished, all the way through to the final right pass. There's no stopping halfway because the passes turned against you.

The clean fix, and what good tables do without being asked: after the first left, East says "does anyone want to stop?" Somebody answers. Everybody knows where they stand. It takes two seconds and it prevents the entire argument.

What if I want to keep passing and she doesn't?

You lose. Cheerfully.

The second Charleston needs everyone. If one player wants out, the table skips straight to the courtesy pass. She doesn't owe you an explanation, and asking for one is a small breach of manners that experienced players will note and never mention.

The reasoning is fair enough. If her hand is nearly built, three more passes are three more chances to have it taken apart. Nobody should have to gamble a good rack because the other three want another go around.

What's the courtesy pass?

The last exchange before the game starts, and it happens either way. Stop the Charleston or run the full second one, the courtesy pass is still on the table.

It's between you and the player opposite you, and only her. You each decide how many tiles you want to pass: zero, one, two, or three. Then the lower number wins. You want three and she wants one, you both pass one. She wants none, nobody passes anything, and the two of you nod and move on.

It's the only pass in the game with a dimmer switch on it. Every other pass is exactly three tiles.

And the pairs work independently. You and your opposite can do a courtesy of two while the other two players do nothing at all.

Can I pass a joker in the Charleston?

Never. Not in the first Charleston, not in the second, not in a blind pass, not in the courtesy pass. Jokers stay on your rack until the game begins.

This is the rule beginners break most, usually with the best intentions, because the joker doesn't fit the hand they think they're building on the second pass. Pass it and you've handed a stranger a wild tile.

Your hand on the first right is almost never the hand you finish with. Hold the joker. It'll find a home. Everything else about them lives in our joker rules guide.

If someone does accidentally pass you a joker, it's not a dead hand. The game hasn't started. She takes it back, gives you a normal tile, and everybody agrees to forget about it.

What's a blind pass?

It's the trapdoor for when you can't bear to give up three tiles.

On the last pass of each Charleston, the first left and the last right, you may pass along one, two, or all three of the tiles being handed to you without looking at them. You're passing tiles you've never seen, straight through, to the next player.

You may not peek. Peeking is the whole thing. If you look, it's no longer blind, and the table will know because your face will tell them.

The Charleston, in one glance

The permission you didn't know you had

There's a specific kind of beginner suffering where you sit at a table watching your good tiles leave, one pass at a time, believing you have no say in it.

You have a say. You've always had a say. The woman on your left has been stopping the Charleston for years, without apology, in a tone that suggests she's doing everyone a favor. She isn't being rude. She's playing the game as it was written.

So say it. "I'd like to stop." That's the whole sentence. Nobody will ask why, because nobody is allowed to.

If the rest of the game still feels like it's happening in a language you half speak, start at the beginning. And if you've ever been unsure what the blank white tile does, it's called a soap.

Have you ever stopped the Charleston and regretted it instantly? What did you give up?