When Friday comes along, at around 5:30 p.m., when employees clock out and businesses close for the weekend, a weird phenomenon takes over Santo Domingo. Orderly yet unordered, synchronized yet unplanned, thousands of Dominican men diligently go to their corner store of choice for a game of dominoes. They will play until nightfall comes, or until they receive an angry phone call from their wives at home. Whatever happens first.

Yuppies in an anglophone country might refer to this phenomenon as “after-working” and equate it with bars and coworkers. Dominicans don’t formalize it that way. They simply have a seat, order a beer, and wait for three other players to start a game. There is no mention of work, no chit-chat, and no lame attempts at networking. Don’t be fooled, this is not a trivial issue. Dominoes have long been a staple of afternoons in the Caribbean. Playing dominoes is more than a pastime. It is an institution, whose indisputable place in Dominican society is not questioned.

Playing dominoes not only offers a great opportunity to unwind after a long week and make friends, it is also a social diluter whereby all social classes mix, and differences in status and standing go unnoticed. When walking through Santo Domingo, besides complaining about the infrastructure and litter, myriads of spontaneous dominoes games will pop up. The cast of these games offer a democratic take of the social fabric.

The office worker who loosens his tie after staring at spreadsheets all day long. He proudly keeps on his ID lanyard to display that he works at a big corporate tower downtown.

The exhausted construction worker in jeans and knock-off sneakers. He knows this is better than going home to rest.

The rich business owner in an expensive shirt and leather loafers flashing a fancy watch. He looks like a douchebag but will actually buy a round for everyone later.

The 50-something-year-old bus driver that has been yelling at people since 6 a.m. and is looking forward to some more yelling.

The bored retiree who has been waiting all week to teach “these damn kids” what a serious game of dominoes is all about. Complaining about the youth is his other pastime.

These gentlemen and some others will religiously cram the corner stores they call “colmados” for a couple of hours. Some arrive on foot and some by car, but at the dominoes table, like at a court of law, all are equal. Social differences disappear. Rich, poor, white, mixed, Black, illegal Haitian with broken Spanish, are all welcome at the table. No one is judged and all can play, what matters is that there are enough tables for all customers to play. Actually, no. The only concern is having enough chairs because when the "colmado" runs out of tables, players sit close and balance the board on their knees.

After a couple of hours, the "colmados" start to resemble a professional gambler’s room at the Bellagio. Players analyze the state of the game while mathematically scheming and plotting to block the opponents’ path. They cover their pieces with one hand and hold a beer with the other. The construction worker called the bluff of the rich guy ages ago, the bus driver is all bark and no bite, and the retiree, an old dog, knows that his last two pieces hold the keys to the game. The office worker watches on from the side because he is fatigued from staring at spreadsheets all day.

In between bachata songs that sing of heartbreak, constant honking, and indecent catcalling, domino games offer a reflection of Dominican society. Stark differences but plenty of commonality. Entry is not barred or confined to socio-economic status. It is also not a fad or trend like padel or rock climbing. Not to mention those cuckoo clubs of crossfit and cycling at 5 a.m. It is a form of entertainment which grew organically and arose naturally. Dominoes has settled as a staple of Dominican culture indulged by all and even proudly played by members of the diaspora in New York and Spain.

Dominicans play dominoes because it is exciting and provides an escape from the monotony of life. Yes, it can get heated. Arguments may start and fights may even erupt, especially when bets are placed. But once the next round begins and beer flows generously, all is forgiven and peace resumes. After a while, all stress has left the body and players feel refreshed for the coming week. What's best is that before heading home, there is a mandatory pit stop at a conveniently located food cart. The perfect ending for a perfect evening.