Wednesday, September 8, 2010
There was fun in the air at Bingo tonight—and maybe just a hint of aftershave.
Everyone was in a good mood. Dorothy and Royal teamed up to ogle the prize cart and giggle, then they threatened to steal things when I wasn’t looking. Cal Bush called over, “Hello, young lady,” and when I asked whether he meant me, he laughed and said his birthday was coming up—he was about to turn “23.” Wesley had perched a stuffed lamb from the cart on his caller’s table. At first glance it was cute, but on second glance, something was a little off. “That thing’s head is WAY too big for its body,” I told Wesley. He actually guffawed, and every time we looked at it after that, we both did.
My new friend the Bingo survivor came in all spiffed up, in a nice button-down shirt and patriotic suspenders. When he hugged me, I thought I detected a pleasant new scent of some kind. He told me Ray McDade had suggested he go to church tonight. Maybe another night, my new friend had said; “I told him there was someone I wanted to see at Bingo.”
Leo Burton accidentally called a bingo before he had one, but then the next number was just what he’d needed. “I knew I was about to get a damn Bingo,” Leo laughed. To which Wesley replied: “Watch your language.” Leo and I both laughed; certainly we’d heard much worse come from that very chair. But Wesley was serious. It could have turned sour, but Leo let it go. “Whatever,” he said. I smiled at them both.
Drama avoided. Wesley bingoed and won his hysterically giant-headed lamb. Happiness restored.
There was fun in the air at Bingo tonight—and maybe just a hint of aftershave.
Everyone was in a good mood. Dorothy and Royal teamed up to ogle the prize cart and giggle, then they threatened to steal things when I wasn’t looking. Cal Bush called over, “Hello, young lady,” and when I asked whether he meant me, he laughed and said his birthday was coming up—he was about to turn “23.” Wesley had perched a stuffed lamb from the cart on his caller’s table. At first glance it was cute, but on second glance, something was a little off. “That thing’s head is WAY too big for its body,” I told Wesley. He actually guffawed, and every time we looked at it after that, we both did.
My new friend the Bingo survivor came in all spiffed up, in a nice button-down shirt and patriotic suspenders. When he hugged me, I thought I detected a pleasant new scent of some kind. He told me Ray McDade had suggested he go to church tonight. Maybe another night, my new friend had said; “I told him there was someone I wanted to see at Bingo.”
Leo Burton accidentally called a bingo before he had one, but then the next number was just what he’d needed. “I knew I was about to get a damn Bingo,” Leo laughed. To which Wesley replied: “Watch your language.” Leo and I both laughed; certainly we’d heard much worse come from that very chair. But Wesley was serious. It could have turned sour, but Leo let it go. “Whatever,” he said. I smiled at them both.
Drama avoided. Wesley bingoed and won his hysterically giant-headed lamb. Happiness restored.
RSS Feed