Friday, September 14, 2012
Some days, Bingo just effortlessly assumes A Theme. Today’s was especially obvious and ubiquitous: Sweet. Heartwarmingly, heartbreakingly sweet.
All the regular serious competitors were in place—Ray McDade, Dorothy, David, Harriet and Doris, Leo, Charlie, Royal—along with some of the not-so-regulars who tend to need some serious Bingo help: Doug, Dick, Dahl.
Doug used to get Ken Levick in trouble because Ken happily kept an eye on Doug’s card for him. Some of the “serious” players insisted Doug could play his own card—and today he did a pretty good job of it. Doug still has a tendency to call Bingos when there are none, and to raise his hand and call, “Excuse me” several times a game, but today he won three times in a row and had amassed a nice pile of prizes that he arranged rather geometrically on his table.
So when he looked at me and called, “Excuse me,” I was all prepared to remind him that since he’d already won, he’d have to sit out until the next game. But Doug already knew that.
“What’s up, Doug?,” I asked.
He pointed to the three-bar soap prize in his pile. “Is this good soap?,” he asked.
I laughed out loud—and then we examined it. “Well, it’s Dial,” I told him. “I think that’s a pretty good brand. And it says it’s hypo-allergenic, which is probably good, too. Wanna smell it?” I held up the soap so he could get a whiff, and he inhaled hard enough to suck all the oxygen out of the room.
“Mmmm,” he said. “I think that is good.”
That little exchange would have been sweet enough on its own any other time, but today’s truly touching moments were between residents.
Billy was sitting at the table next to Doug. Billy has a tendency to roam a little randomly. From across the room I saw Billy heading for Doug’s table, and I couldn’t imagine why.
Billy didn’t say a word; he just delivered his prize—a six-pack of mini-donuts—to Doug’s table and dumped out a few. Doug smiled and ate them all.
Gary C. is faithfully helpful, too, and when he came in a little late and his regular spot was taken, he sat at a table with Royal and Dahl. Dahl always needs Bingo help, and today Gary basically played Dahl’s card for him. Gary even called Bingo for Dahl—which was a good thing, because when I got to their table, I literally had to wake Dahl up to choose his prize. He was pleasantly surprised.
At another table, one of the Recreation staffers was helping Dick monitor his card. Dick is often confused, and almost always hungry. Lyle was sitting across from Dick. Lyle is usually quiet and kind of solitary (and also hungry), but today he opened his prize (a big pack of red licorice) and quietly scooted it across the table to Dick. It was so incredibly generous and thoughtful, I almost cried.
A woman I’d never met came in toward the end of Bingo. Harriet discreetly called me over. “She’ll need some help,” Harriet whispered. I brought the woman a card and briefly explained the game, but she seemed dubious. “I’ve never played this, and I don’t know how it works,” she told me. Harriet and I kept an eye on her, and on her Bingo card, but after one game, she called me over. “Please take this card,” she said. “I just don’t get it.”
I looked at Harriet and shrugged my shoulders. “We tried,” I said.
“That’s all we can do,” Harriet said.
Some days, Bingo just effortlessly assumes A Theme. Today’s was especially obvious and ubiquitous: Sweet. Heartwarmingly, heartbreakingly sweet.
All the regular serious competitors were in place—Ray McDade, Dorothy, David, Harriet and Doris, Leo, Charlie, Royal—along with some of the not-so-regulars who tend to need some serious Bingo help: Doug, Dick, Dahl.
Doug used to get Ken Levick in trouble because Ken happily kept an eye on Doug’s card for him. Some of the “serious” players insisted Doug could play his own card—and today he did a pretty good job of it. Doug still has a tendency to call Bingos when there are none, and to raise his hand and call, “Excuse me” several times a game, but today he won three times in a row and had amassed a nice pile of prizes that he arranged rather geometrically on his table.
So when he looked at me and called, “Excuse me,” I was all prepared to remind him that since he’d already won, he’d have to sit out until the next game. But Doug already knew that.
“What’s up, Doug?,” I asked.
He pointed to the three-bar soap prize in his pile. “Is this good soap?,” he asked.
I laughed out loud—and then we examined it. “Well, it’s Dial,” I told him. “I think that’s a pretty good brand. And it says it’s hypo-allergenic, which is probably good, too. Wanna smell it?” I held up the soap so he could get a whiff, and he inhaled hard enough to suck all the oxygen out of the room.
“Mmmm,” he said. “I think that is good.”
That little exchange would have been sweet enough on its own any other time, but today’s truly touching moments were between residents.
Billy was sitting at the table next to Doug. Billy has a tendency to roam a little randomly. From across the room I saw Billy heading for Doug’s table, and I couldn’t imagine why.
Billy didn’t say a word; he just delivered his prize—a six-pack of mini-donuts—to Doug’s table and dumped out a few. Doug smiled and ate them all.
Gary C. is faithfully helpful, too, and when he came in a little late and his regular spot was taken, he sat at a table with Royal and Dahl. Dahl always needs Bingo help, and today Gary basically played Dahl’s card for him. Gary even called Bingo for Dahl—which was a good thing, because when I got to their table, I literally had to wake Dahl up to choose his prize. He was pleasantly surprised.
At another table, one of the Recreation staffers was helping Dick monitor his card. Dick is often confused, and almost always hungry. Lyle was sitting across from Dick. Lyle is usually quiet and kind of solitary (and also hungry), but today he opened his prize (a big pack of red licorice) and quietly scooted it across the table to Dick. It was so incredibly generous and thoughtful, I almost cried.
A woman I’d never met came in toward the end of Bingo. Harriet discreetly called me over. “She’ll need some help,” Harriet whispered. I brought the woman a card and briefly explained the game, but she seemed dubious. “I’ve never played this, and I don’t know how it works,” she told me. Harriet and I kept an eye on her, and on her Bingo card, but after one game, she called me over. “Please take this card,” she said. “I just don’t get it.”
I looked at Harriet and shrugged my shoulders. “We tried,” I said.
“That’s all we can do,” Harriet said.
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