OVER THE PAST few years, it seems like every Sex and the City imitator has developed a powerful thirst for cocktails in martini glasses, mimosas for brunch, and lots of insouciant sharing.

But, please, enough already.

Say buh-bye to frivolous chitchat over bubbly and hellooo to hardened, high-stakes gambling.

First of all, witness the curious growing interest in mah jongg. The Chinese clickety-clackety tile game may have gained popularity and fame with the book and subsequent film The Joy Luck Club, but these days players are cross-generational and multiethnic.

Ruth Unger, president of the National Mah Jongg League in New York, is working five phone lines on the morning following the release of new game sets and cards (the league sells full sets for $127.95 through its Web site). "It’s madness," Unger gasps. She explains that membership has doubled to 200,000 during her 20-year presidency — and that recent initiates are young folks. "The younger people are game people, and there is a mystique about this ancient game," she says. "Plus, they had seen their grandmothers play. The grandchildren are finding that this is more than a game; it’s intriguing, very relaxing, and it opens up a whole new world of camaraderie and networking."

Watertown thirtysomething residents Terri Bogage and Jerry Belli have monthly mah jongg sessions with their friends, putting the kids to bed and playing until well past midnight. "It’s hard to stop," explains Belli, a social worker. "It’s addictive — especially if the tiles don’t fall where you want them to."

Jill Davis — formerly a Lynn Item humor columnist and writer for David Letterman — is familiar with the thrill of playing for money. She meets with girlfriends twice a month in her New York home to ante up. And she’s penned a novel, Girls’ Poker Night (Random House, 2002), about ladies who convene around cash and cards, and the ensuing self-discovery. "There’s nothing like poker," Davis says. "It’s very social. You wouldn’t believe the stuff that people share." She says she’s heard of women creating poker nights modeled after her book. "Instead of their book club, they’re doing a poker game and then starting their discussion later." Davis has one critical pointer for poker-night initiates: "If you can get away with it, invite friends who have lots and lots of money — and little knowledge of the game."

For folks looking to spice it up a bit, British lingerie company Agent Provocateur offers a saucy, limited-edition, heart-thumping strip-poker set. It includes chips, enlarged cards with soft-core pictures, and strict — some might say sadistic — rules. Rule number 20: "When the game ends, the loser or losers ... are required to stand up, totally nude, with their hands at their side and let people examine them as closely as they like for up to 10 minutes." Agent Provocateur co-owner Serena Rees says it’s all in good fun: "It’s funny to play strip poker with these huge cards. I think cards are such a social thing to do. It’s just being together in a different way, rather than having to go out to dinner or go out clubbing."

The strip-poker sets have become a big bridal-shower hit, says Lisa DeCobert of Louis Boston, which sells the sets for $150. But, she cautions, "before you start the game, you might want to negotiate some of those rules."

Where to get it:

• Louis Boston, 234 Berkeley Street, Boston, (617) 262-6100.

• www.agentprovocateur.com

• www.girlspokernight.com.

• www.nationalmahjonggleague.org.