Bingo Night

Thursday, September 25, 2008

From the depths of Valhalla they come. Champions and contenders alike. Warriors upon the field of battle come to face off against each other in this age old contest of skill and determination. Brother against brother, mother against daughter, nation against nation - worlds are torn apart here upon this hallowed ground. And we? We are but guests to them. Strangers in a strange world. We only hope to escape with our lives and our dignity intact tonight. This might just be too much to ask.

....."Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here".....

The door opens and out pours the thickness of the evening which we are about to enter. The smoke of cannon fire can not begin to compare with what we are about to succumb to yet the furry of cannon fire is in fact in close relation. A great battle now rages within these walls and we are but fresh meat, unwittingly being lead to the slaughter.

And with a single breath your senses are numbed to the point where the word 'reality' loses all meaning.

"LUCKY BEARS! I GOT LUCKY BEARS! WHO WANTS LUCKY BEARS? I GOT LUCKY BEARS! LUCKY BEARS!"

Five minutes ago this would have shocked and confused any normal and sane person. Five minutes ago we would have been normal and sane. Five minutes ago we would have had all five senses operating within normal parameters with synapses firing as they should. Five minutes ago I was able to breath.

"You kids look new. Why don't ya'll just follow me over here and I'll just set ya up with Rosie. She'll show you the ropes and'll have ya'll squared away, ok?"

Oh thank you Jesus! Now you're friend Rosie, does she speak English?

"Now, what you're gonna (I16) need are three Double Down 5s! These are gonna last you the whole night unless you wanna enter into (B7!) the Triple High Score Game which starts in 3 minutes. That gets you a two to one chance of winning and entering to play our Full Spread Match at a quarter till 8. Right now we (G35!) have a 6 pack game going on right now. .........."

Ok... so you don't speak English. Is their someone who does speak English that I might be able to talk to? No? Shit.

Well, um... in that case I guess I'll just take...um...one...of each? Yes? Do these come with written instructions on the back? In English?

At this point, or perhaps roughly thirty minutes ago before we attempted to "communicate" with Rosie, or even before that during those first bold steps across the threshold into this canopy of smoke and Marlboro produced smog did the thought cross into all of our minds...

"Who's brilliant idea was it for all of us to go to Bingo tonight?!"

Short answer, it was Claude's, my sister's boyfriend. Long answer, it was all of us. Our unwillingness to stand up in protest to what we all had thought in the back of our minds was a stupid idea had now brought us into a quagmire of a conflict in a far off and distant land which none of us had ever wanted to be in in the first place. Our original destination was to go downtown for a beer and this detour not only delayed our progress toward locating and drinking beer but transferred valuable resources away from our beer drinking efforts which might have been better used else where, say... drinking beer.

But no. We can't leave now. Stay the course.

Together with Claude and my sister, their was my other sister Erin and her husband Todd who were up visiting from Kentucky and of course my Dad and my step-mom Debbie. We were all having trouble with the elements of our new surroundings until who we believed to be our Peruvian guide, Rosie, told us about the non-smoking hall which was adjacent to the larger, more modern, more densely populated smoking hall. Trekking across forgotten goat herder paths which criscrossed the mountains that divided the two grand halls, Rosie guided us upon her mighty donkey, Pedro, until we reached the non-smoking hall.

A culture of it's own, the small community of non-smokers which we discovered revealed themselves to be both friendly and wonderfully hospitable. Upon entering the village, we were greeted as welcomed travelers from a far off and distant land. We introduced ourselves and told of how we came from the outside world. With great excitement they proceeded to examine our fine wears and good luck charms (We learned second hand that it is their costume to have on hand a symbolic charm of sorts for good luck during game play. This turned out to be false information as the village we encountered did not appear to follow this custom.) but quickly lost interest once the next game began. A local community elder (And let me be frank, they were all elders.) was kind enough to translate the instructions which were given to us by our Peruvian guide, Rosie, who by now had already begun the return journey back across the mountain path to the grand smoking hall.

We learned that the game of Bingo is a fast paced game of both skill and chance. Their are many different ways to win depending upon the game being played. It's not just as simple as getting so many in a row and you must always be careful about when you call out bingo. Only during select times following the calling of a number. Such rules and order of game play we're difficult to understand at first but soon made the game that much more challenging and fun.

I can remember as a small child hunting through old copies of National Geographic while attempting to find my dad's Playboy stash and seeing one copy fall upon the floor with it's paged turned open to an article about the traditions and practices of the Midwestern North American Bingo Enthusiast and the 'Daubers' the chose to use. I didn't choose to read the article or pay much attention to the large picture of the dauber in question as I was on quest for boobies at the time but upon entering that hall and seeing those multicolored instruments of marker identification in action, a sweeping feeling of "Oh!!!!!" quickly over took me. At that point I missed two numbers and lost the round. For the remainder of the night I learned never to allow myself to be overtaken by such childish daydreams. That's how games are lost. That's how you lose.

Never once did I see where the numbers were called or drawn from. Still a great mystery that perhaps the people of the non-smoking hall themselves do not know the answer to. Actually, I bet if any of us had asked they probably could have introduced us to the guy. I'm sure their on a first name basis. His name is probably Carl. Or Bob. Probably Bob.

As the night drew to a close and the dwindling number of games which remained began to present the cold dark truth of our reality that winning just isn't for everyone, we slowly came to realize as well that maybe coming to Bingo wasn't such a bad idea. They had food but their wasn't any time to eat it. I think they might have even had beer but that would have dulled the senses and in no way shape or form would any one of us have allowed alcohol to touch our lips or delude our minds. We were green horns going up against pros. We needed every advantage we could get. Luckily over 84% of the people in the room suffered from some form of arthritis or alzheimer's. One would think this would be like playing against gold fish with a soar tail but it wasn't. It wasn't like that at all.

Our night ended and although defeated, we left victorious. Happy in the thought that we had conquered both a long held primordial fear and superstition as well as walking away with the knowledge that we can all add Bingo to our ever growing list of activities to enjoy. And at the very least, we were all pleased that we were able to find our way out without having to employ the help of our Peruvian guide, Rosie. Bless you Rosie, where ever you might be.