"Bingo!"

A couple of weeks ago, I committed to a basket bingo event which raises funds for K's brother's high school baseball team.  Their mother, Sue, had purchased a ticket for me.  I am not a bingo person, but I am a bit of a family person, and they are like family to me.  I was not thrilled but I was honored that Sue had bought a ticket for me, and one for Colin's girlfriend Megan as well.  We were all in.

I keep an open mind and an optimistic attitude at all times.  But this event was doomed from the start.

To begin, it's K's birthday.  I saw him in the morning and then went home and prepared myself a big breakfast - eggs, bacon and toast.  It was marvelous.  The weather outside was hot and sunny, the second hot spring day of the year.  I flipped on the TV.  Step Up 2.  Not exactly my kind of movie, but I turned it on just as the underdog dance crew was assembling.  I couldn't turn off the TV because I was enthralled in the sick moves the dancers pulled off.  I finally got my act together and knew I would now be 10 minutes late and still needed to get dressed.  Not wanting to leave the kitchen a complete mess, I prepared a hot soapy sink for all of the dirty dishes to soak.  By the time I flew out of the house, I was 30 minutes late.

I arrived at the high school and entered the cafeteria.  Upon entering, I was handed a stack of bingo boards (thin paper sheets in groups of 3) I located my group when I saw Sue standing and waving, and the lovely Megan came to greet me. I settled in at the table and turned to the page that my group was on.  I ripped off the cards on top of mine, believing that I had missed five or six games in my lateness.  I threw those games in the trash - a decision that would come to haunt me later.

It was packed with eager Bingo pros and baseball fans and family alike.  The varsity players circled the tables, offering special bingo cards and food for sale, and gathering trash.  After getting acclimated,  I was bored pretty fast.  I would be there for another two hours.  All I could think of was K, who declined the invitation to play bingo, saying "it's a ladies' thing."  I texted K: You owe me.

The events turned exciting when K's grandmother neared BINGO status.  Megan yelled "BINGO!" for all of the room to hear.  We quickly realized that no one at the table had achieved bingo, and Megan's face reddened as she realized that she would never live this down - ever.

Bingo moved fast.  With a group as large as ours playing three games at a time, someone yelled "Bingo" every couple of minutes.  Soon, I realized that I had run out of bingo games.  Sue laughed, realizing that I had thrown my cards out, and the baseball players had collected our trash and consolidated it in the bigger cans at the edge of the room.

And then Sue did something really embarrasing - she walked over to the trash and begin digging through it.  I rushed over to her, urging her to stop.  Another baseball mom walked over and helped her to dig through the trash.  I offered some self-deprecating comments, as I was now meeting K's family friends for the first time.  It was my turn to blush, and I wondered what I was missing outside in the sunny heat.  On K's birthday.

Sue acquired new cards for me, which was great, and I was back in the game.  Megan wanted to get some snacks, and she asked if I'd like to walk with her.  I remembered what it was like to be a high school girl: they travel in packs.  We took a few minutes, which, in Bingo terms, is a long time.  I sat back down and looked at the screen.  I had missed a lot of numbers.  I hurried to mark my boards with everything I'd missed.  Soon I was stopped, and I looked up to find everyone smiling at me: We don't play this game.  It's a special.

Specials, regulars, I had forgotten.  It made sense why we took a break, because we were not playing that game, and I quickly blamed all of this on my newly acquired ADD.  Fumbling for words, I was exasperated: "Does anyone have a gun?"

My companions laughed harder than they probably have in a long time.  Sue removed her glasses to wipe the tears from her cheeks.  I was strangely satisfied in my ability to get a rise out of people.  I should be a comedian.