On a typical Saturday night you might find me sipping girly cocktails at a trendy Hollywood bar or noshing on an un-pronounceable appetizer at some highly-rated "Top Chef" restaurant. What I love about living in Los Angeles is there's always something fabulous to discover. Which is why you'll never find me in a church basement surrounded by other people's grandmas.
Saturday morning, up for a little adventure, I call a local Catholic church for the scoop on their advertised bingo night. The lady on the phone proceeds to give me the phone number for the bingo manager ... which turns out, is really a public pay phone ... somewhere near the church basement ... that he sometimes answers.
This sounds promising. So, I call the bingo man and he forks over the important details:
1. Bingo doors open at 4 PM
2. Game starts at 6 PM
3. The first game of the night is a practice round -- which doesn't count
4. And if interested, confession is from 1-2 PM
A few of my thoughts at this time:
1. Why in god's name would you need to get there two hours early? What could these people be doing for two hours before the game started?
2. Why in hell is there a practice round for a game I learned in preschool??
3. Confession? Oh yeah, that's when I made up sins in the second grade so I had something to say to the priest. Wait, is lying to a priest a sin?
Next, what exactly does a girl wear to a bingo night? Trina Turk cocktail dress? Nope. Super cute black jumpsuit? Nada. Sparkly sequin sleeveless tank? Negativo. Oooh I know - retirement home-inspired velor sweat pants and a hideous "10 Commandments of Bingo" t-shirt, hell yes!
I arrive at 7 PM because fashionably late can usually be trusted and applied to all social events. Let's just say, I learned the one exception. Walking in I'm immediately blasted with fluorescent lighting and a faint whiff of moth balls. This is no Hyde Lounge.
Right away I am welcomed by this lady ...
... who explains that the twenty bucks fast cash I grabbed from the ATM was not going to cut it here.
For $30 I get 2 bingo cards (with all the night's games on it) -- this is the cheapest way to play, but also gives you the worst odds, as most seasoned players are using ... bingo machines!
For $55 I get a machine -- no daubing, this sucker does the work for you, increasing your odds. I had no idea there even were bingo machines!
So, despite the hard sell, I pass over $30 and hope luck is on my side.
I am then asked a question that will later bite me in the ass, "Have you ever played BINGO before?"
My answer, "Uh. Of course!" (as I think, what's wrong with these people? It's FREAKING BINGO, isn't it?)
She points to the daubers ...
hands me a program (what? Bingo has a program?!) ...
and then, I'm thrust into a sea of seniors!
HOLY HOLY HOLY Shit.
I'm taken to my seat, which happens to be in a corner, behind the actual bingo board (now understanding why doors open at 4 PM). At least from this view, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Oxygen tanks, walkers and wheelchairs ... oh, my!
The comic strip Cathy 30 years later, lucky stuffed animals and multiple machine set-ups
(remember, these are $55 a pop!)
Random good luck thingys
Picnicking at tables
, peanuts and extra ink on hand
Lucky photos of great great grand children.
Grannies downing Ensure -- the drink of choice at BINGO night.
The game starts and it's complete insanity! Wide-screen TVs on all walls posting balls before they're read by the announcer. In between the number calling, ladies all over the hall are yelling -- Stingers! Cherries! Cupcakes! Double Action! Queens Wild! Last Call! (and I'm not talkin' about alcohol) Speaking of alcohol, I'll confess I did shove a few bottles of the airport's finest rum in my purse -- but like hell I was going to drink it -- I couldn't even follow this circus sober.
I was a lamb led to slaughter. Numbers -- letters! Lucky dollar bills! Six-packs! (still not talking about alcohol) People holding up lottery tickets and waving flags around. No wonder I heard a lady yell, "Help me!"
I was trying to hard to keep up -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- look up at TV screen -- ink ink ink -- etc. I thought bingo could only be won by getting B-I-N-G-O in a row or diagonally -- oh how wrong I was. In some games I could ink the free space, in some games I couldn't, sometimes I ink the corners (called the Picture Frame), sometimes I was playing Crazy Bingo, other games I was playing Jamboree Bingo. At no point was any of this explained to us. Now the practice round totally makes sense.
How is it that old people can't figure out how to work a computer mouse, but can navigate through 26 (!?) different rounds of high-speed bingo? Is it the cold hard cash? The concession stand with homemade brownies? Or is it the last rush of excitement before they're 6 feet under? That's so mean. Now I'm definitely going to hell.
Also, for the record, this game of bingo is not a friendly game. When someone wins, there aren't cheers or applause from fellow players. There's a chorus of grunts and groans because Carmel at the table next to you just won 250 bucks, and she only has one troll doll and didn't volunteer to decorate the church for Christmas.
Once I got the hang of it and settled in, I gotta say, it was actually fun. I mean, it's gambling. I love gambling! It doesn't seem legal to win that much CASH in a church basement. Of course, I didn't win anything, but when I go back (and yes, I will be going back), I'm gonna upgrade to the machine. These ladies don't stand a chance.
What's with all the '90s band stickers on the marker box? Although, I do agree with the old ladies Anti-Limp Bizkit stance.
ReplyDeleteMy grandma used to take me to play bingo with her. Yup, this looks about how I remembered it.
ReplyDeletePerhaps I missed it (trying to pay attention at a meeting AND read your blog), but why did you have a Bingo shirt in the first place?
ReplyDeleteHi there,
ReplyDeleteThis has to be one of the funniest things I've read in a while!!
Thanks for the laughs especially the parts with the ensure drink and the random good luck thingys! :)