Sunday, May 27, 2012

Let's give them something to talk about...

As many of you know, I find myself more often than I care to admit, playing Bingo with a dear friend on Friday or Saturday evenings.  Now personally, I find this appalling and I don't hesitate in telling her so.  We are both moderately young, healthy, and attractive women.  Why in God's name are we sitting in a run down Bingo hall eating corn dogs?  This is tragic. We should be at one of Denver's country western bars shaking our booties at tall, rugged cowboys not sitting with the oxygenated infirmed waiting for B11 to be broadcast over loud speakers.  Also - as I'm in the habit of doing when I'm annoyed after losing several close games - I voiced this opinion again last night and rather loudly while sitting across from several of these poor oxygenated, infirmed folks.

This is not how one makes friends at a Bingo hall.  There are certain protocols which must be adhered to at all time:

Never call "Bingo" inadvertently.  This is considered a terrible faux pas.  Depending on the situation, it can lead to significant shame and hissing from other players.

Even if it's the "Big One" - The Progressive Jackpot - one mustn't act smug or superior after winning.  This shows that you're an undeserving ass and no one will ever be happy for you if you win again.

Never talk openly about fun or interesting topics like sex, parties, or drinking.  This proves that you are a person with loose moral standards.  Once this happens, there's no redemption in the eyes of your table partners even if you do offer a periodic blessing when someone sneezes.

Do not be overzealous when calling, "Bingo".  Last night a gentleman had proven himself to be a "clown" and a "shameless idiot" because he had the unmitigated audacity to bellow out his win.  During this point of the evening all pace makers were set on low.  Being a "regular", he certainly should have known better.  The startle factor was enough to set off their panic alarms which - I must say - I found extremely amusing.

Never, ever - regardless of how funny the prior situation was - start laughing when the other players considered it unamusing.  Perhaps it was the bulging blue eyeballs of the old woman when the bellower jolted her awake?  Or could it have been the squeal of the big lady across the hall as her knee automatically reflexed and bruised the corner of the table?  Either way, it was too much for me to contain.  I had the giggles.  My shoulders could not stop shaking.  No matter how many wrinkled or puffy, overstuffed, surly faces stared down at me, I could not stop chortling.  I believe I even snorted at one point, which was apropos, because I was in the middle of shoveling down that damned corn dog...

I can't say I've broken all of the parlour protocols yet.  Since I'm a perpetual Bingo loser, I have yet to scream out my joy at any major win much less gloat over a jackpot but I can say with all certainty that if I do hit the "Big One", I'm gonna stand up, do some nasty dancin', and give those old folks something to talk about...and then shake my bootie on over to a country western bar.