Bingo
Attempted 12th June 2010
If someone had asked me last year "Hey, wanna go to Bingo?" they would of heard two words containing three F's.
However as part of my commitment to Force the Door, I thought, "Why not?". Ok, so I did drag a posse in with but I did go me (you can't turn your back on these oldies for a second). Oh and by the way, this wasn’t just Bingo, it was MEGA BINGO!!!! Yeeeeehhh! Can you feel the adrenaline pumping?!?
Posse by my side I turn up to the mega-ness that was Bingo. It was held at the local Mega Dome. The invite said the doors opened at 12pm and 'eye's down' was at 2pm. Not wanting to sit around for 2 hours with a bunch of knitting Nannies I decided a 1pm arrival was acceptable.
As we arrived and dodged the traffic jam of Zimmer frames we started to notice a common theme amongst the crocheted bags and baskets. They seemed to be carrying cushions, had containers of food and the occasional thermos of "tea". OMG! How do you come unprepared to Bingo?
When we finally made it into the venue (old people in revolving doors are a comic masterpiece) we were confronted with the “MEGA” part of the event title. I’m talking 3000 blue rinse demons lined in a maze of trestle tables and cheap plastic outdoor chairs. They were decked out in there blankets, thermos and boiled lollies. We had to squeeze past endless plastic chairs and walking sticks to find 8 seats together (hence the 12pm start) and wedge ourselves in amongst a couple of oldies.
The lady sitting next to me was there with her mother (bless) and they both had discarded the standard issue doppers (number markers for the Bingo uneducated) for their own customised colours. I opened my game booklet and let out my first gasp for the evening. It was magnificent in its numerical glory. There were boxes and lines and numbers and boxes and lines, and... well it was a little overwhelming. How the hell do you play Bingo? I thought you just tried to get a row of numbers? Apparently not.
Apparently there is much more too it at that.
After either seeing the anguish on my face or hearing the grinding of my teeth the kind lady next to me offered her assistance. She explained the rules to me which I then relayed to the Posse, who were not impressed at all with the lack of alcohol at the venue.
Then the announcer turned on the mic and started crooning the game rules to the breathless biddies below. He had a velvet softness to his tone that reminded me of something.... something warm and soothing... something... something... OH MY GOD! He sounds like a hypnotist?!?!
It occurred to me that this might be the best strategy for preventing a full scale revolt from 3000 bingo hungry nanas. His calling style reminded me of a hypnotherapy session given by a 1st year university History lecturer. It was pure gold. He called "eyes down" and the room melted into silence. I was impressed that in the next 3 hours of silence, surrounded by 3000 "older people", I didn’t here one bottom burp. These people were FOCUSED!
I played as best I could, trying to keep up with the caller and mark my sheets at the same time. Occasionally I would have two or three numbers to go on my row. My heart was racing, breath baited, prayers in every language and religion running through my mind only to be thwarted by the banshee cry of "Bingo!" followed by "Oh bloody hell!" by one of the competitive members of our Posse. I was actually getting into it.
There was a rule which said you had to call Bingo on the last number in your line, before the next number is called. And you had to be heard. In a Super Dome of 3000 people it was a little hard to hear some of the older ladies who missed out when their mouse like squeaks were not yielded. My team and I knew that would not be our problem. If I got "Bingo" the rest of the state would know about it.
The games went on with the occasional "Bingo" followed by a polite clap or the caller's accusatory "Boggggeeeeey!" announcement and a room full of "tutts".
As the games progressed the prizes got more and more outlandish. Eventually we hit the big game. The prize was $20,000. I felt sorry for the winner. Surely he/she would get jumped in the car park (I already had my escape route mapped out).
The game started and my numbers where coming up, I was squeezing my dopper so hard I was creating puddles on my page instead of dots. Then I glanced to the right.
The lady next to me (my Bingo mentor) was white with pursed lips that had melded into the same shade as her face. I glanced at her game sheet. She had two numbers to go and we were early into the calls.
I lost focus and whispered to her "If your numbers come up, I will call Bingo, they WILL hear you". And then I willed with all my might for a 14 and 27. "Come one 14... Come on 27... Come on 14..." then "Bingo!!" followed by screams of delight.
No, it wasn't me or my Bingo mentor. Someone got there before us. Curses! I was completely gutted. Oh the highs and the lows. The afternoon then wrapped up and with a twinge of sadness we all shuffled, scootered or Zimmer framed out into the sunset.
I have to say, I enjoyed it. Very much so. The posse and I decided we would get a bigger band of renegades together next year and bring the works. Many a Thermos, many nibbles and maybe even a pig on a spit. I think Bingo could be my new hobby. I know crazy but true. Maybe the hypnosis worked?
Manda
Ahem… This is actually Cas here. Manda had an appointment with a bottle or two of wine the night before this event and was sadly in no fit state to attend, or even walk for that matter. She owes me a blue rinse. :)
