The last time I played Bingo Was second grade. It was suggested to me on this trip since it tends to take a little longer to lose your ass. Perhaps if this is the number one selling point of the advice people give you, just skip Vegas altogether.
So my husband and I head over to one of the OG Casinos that still has Bingo. Boy do they ever! Every. Hour.
We belly up to the window to purchase our paper cards from Beehive Betsy. She very very swiftly runs through the overview.
We caught none of what she said.
We were given our ‘booklet’ and told to get the ‘daubers’ from the front. Bingo is not a solitary cardboard you place chips on. We were so very out of our league.
The room was silent as the pros adjusted their Depends, chain smoked their Virginia Slims, and smacked their dentures. They looked at us like fresh meat as we chose a Table to sit at… Right up front… as if being close to the caller would help. We were beside a table with the most stereotypical Bingo enthusiast you could imagine. She was on her red scooter throne surrounded by troll dolls, stuffed animals, print out pictures, headphones and the piest de resistance: a musical dancing Bingo dog which she held up each time she won. And she won her big ass off more than once, godbless’er!
My husband and I sat down and immediately began to sweat and nervous-giggle. It didnt last long because we missed the first two numbers called and this set hubby on a game of frantic catch-up for the entire round.
I consider myself a fairly intelligent individual. My husband even has good days. The man is an executive in charge of a team of people for cripessakes…Men, even! And we all know how difficult it can be to keep a herd of men focused on a task – squirrel!
This experience showed us how unprepared for Bingo Life we really are. Somehow this game involving a sheet of paper consisting of multiple play cards, one ‘dauber’ (also known as the dot paint to my daughter and most children’s art activities) and one ball caller was far more superior than our insignificant infantile minds could process.
We were laughing at our own incompetence.
The very nice and patient attendants kept repeating, “You’ll get the hang of it. I promise.” I’m sure they walked away from us shaking their heads and wondering what institution we were visiting from.
The idea of marking a called number combination wasnt the challenging part. It was the multiple games with different rules and following ten cards all while listening to the monotone information about the casino and varying winning denominations should you win on ‘this’ number called. It truly tested our IQ. And we could not stop laughing at the absurdity of this.
In the end, we won bubcuss. Nada. Zilch. Nary a ‘Bingo’ was declared by eith of us, but we have endless fodder for those slow and nearly awkward silent moments for future dates.
Sarcasmica 