Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Curses! Lost Again!!

It suddenly occurred to me this morning why I am and always will be an eternal Bingo LOSER.  I have  absolutely no concentration.  Try, if you can, to follow this thought process dear friends and blog readers.  It's a tricky maze of questionable short cuts and interconnections.  Strangely enough, I function quite well with it except - of course - in the unlikely event of linking five numbers with fluorescent dauber ink.

Wile E Coyote
When I struggle at something which so many others seem successful, I obsess over it.  It drives me to distraction.  I must understand why it is that I fail.  Once, after staring at a deck chair which my husband literally assembled "inside-out", he ascertained that the directions were wrong.  I calmly responded, "I find that unacceptable."  Much to his chagrin, we "re-assembled" it and determined that the directions were indeed correct.  It took us over five hours, nearly cost us a divorce, and sadder still - I imagined scenes of homicide so vile I'm convinced I could be Satan's spawn.  No, I am Wile E Coyote and damn that Road Runner anyway!

So why did I begin this odd post today?  As many of you know from past blogs, I used to - and this is key - used to attend Bingo games on Friday evenings with a dear friend.  After nearly two years of sitting on uncomfortable torn seats and staring at overly pierced, tattooed, or the geriatric infirmed, I decided that having won only $12.50 was not worth the agony.  I clearly was doing something wrong.  After all, my friend Cindy and other table compatriots were winning on a consistent basis.  It could no longer be blamed on Bingo Karma.  I needed to ascertain what the issue was before I invested another 50 cents on the game.

My plan was simple; practice on my cell phone.  No money need be invested.  Focus on the odds and probability.  This made total sense and yet every morning a Bingo win still evaded me.  AND, even more pathetic, my cell phone allows 3 bonus balls meaning I receive 3 additional chances to win.  Then IT happened.  My moment of clarity arrived.


Bri:  It's early morning.  The boys are asleep.  She's enjoying her blissful hour in bed, drinking her candy bar in a bowl (aka, coffee) and playing Bingo on her cell phone before the boys wake up.  Eric, her wonderful and endearing husband, is getting ready for work.  He distracts Bri with his goofy routine (eight spritz' of hairspray, carefully wiping his eyeglasses, etc.) and Bri finds herself giggling.  His procedure hasn't changed in eighteen years but it's still entertaining.

Eric:  "What are you laughing at?"

Bri:  "You, always."

Eric:  "Biaaatch!"

Bri:  "Thank you." 

She grins as he kisses her goodbye and reminds him to place Waldo in front of the door.  Waldo is an ugly green cement turtle that Bri bought years ago.  Its intent was to be a garden decoration but with everything else odd about Bri, she purchased it solely as a door stop because she thought it was quirky.  Also, nothing in the house goes without a name.  This ugly turtle was immediately christened, "Waldo".  The reasoning behind this was that Bri could consistently say, "Where's Waldo?"

As Eric walks out of the bedroom she considers how cute his ass looks in business pants.  Poof!  Gone is Eric's fannie from Breezy's thoughts and immediately her brain returns to the silly name, "Waldo" for her door stop; however, she muses - no sillier than the name "George" for a Greyhound.  Why do people give their pets people names?  She doesn't like that.  Too many people name their dogs, "Molly".  Her goddaughter's name is Molly and she takes offense that there are dogs in the world with her goddaughter's name.  Her son William named a mole on his leg, "Mole Rat" because it was big and had hair coming out of it.  This has nothing to do with a dog but this made her laugh.  She wondered if William missed "Mole Rat" because it was removed during precautionary outpatient surgery.  Bri considered her problems remembering names which is why she likes naming pets herself.  She hates it when children name cats something stupid like, "Fluffy" or dogs, "Spot".  She had to admit, Austynn did a good job naming their dogs...

Bri suddenly looked down at her Bingo game...lost again.  CURSES! 

~ CUT ~

My moment of clarity?  Attention Deficit Disorder.