ankle, bingo, call, coupon, decrepit, die, digits, dreams, dress, embracing, family, festive, geriatric, girl, guy, humor, jealous, ladies, lungs, majadahonda, numbers, numbers fetish, old people, rude, sexy, short, shout, side, spirit, tradition, unpoliteness, waiter, warning, widest
There is another tradition in my family that consists of embarking in an exciting adventure: Going to the Bingo. All the women in my family, my mum, my two sister and I, and in this particular year, my brother-in-law too; brave the cold and the festive spirit and try to fulfill our wildest dreams in which this time, the numbers would be in our side.
I dunno know if you ever have gone to one of those places, so I will depict a fully in detail masterpiece that will allow you to experience what it is in the flesh. In a few words, is a place, normally in the middle of the city, with the sign “BINGO” embroiled in huge pink/green neon lights. The one in Majadahonda, my town, is and old building, next to a boutique that sells crude imitations of expensive clothes, with their price tags, as if they were the real deal. Well that was out of topic, but I became indignant when I saw a ” Rap Loren” shirt for 75 euros.
Back to the matter in our hands, when we arrived there, we had to descend to the core of the Earth, where there was a covered in dust wood door that was the entrance for the promised entertainment. We had to give our IDs to a unsmiling and unblinking lady, that kept them forever. After those endless moments we could enter the paradise of Bingo.
Our eyes were perplexed by the view. A huge room, packed with round tables,non identified fumes and smells and most importantly old, really old people of all kinds and genders. I believe that our small group was the only one whose age was lower than sixty. You could read in their eyes that we were trespassing their realm of solitude and crazy money spending time. Furthermore, the ladies, were darting me murderous gazes because I was wearing a short dress, and they were jealous because they had to content themselves by wearing one just above the ankles.
As I mentioned above, the room was packed so we went to the farthest table in the farthest side. The moment we seated, a guy appeared from nowhere and without warning or politeness whatsoever, seized the money that my mum have left in the table and gave us a coupon to play.
For the ones not initiated in this pleasurable and geriatric game, these are the basic rules: You have fifteen numbers in your coupon, if you hear them all,you shout BINGO until your lungs die, and then you win.
It is extremely stressing because the person that recites the digits normally do it really fast, therefore you do not have enough time to check the last number, when he is already two numbers ahead. In our case, we were diverted by other account. There were three people reciting, one was a call girl who believed numbers are the sexiest creatures ever, other, a retired call girl who no longer believed numbers to be the sexiest creatures ever and a guy, whose voice sounded as if he was dying.
We did not win even a miserable penny, but if you like to be watched by a decrepit crowd as if you were from another planet, being harassed by rude waiters and have a fetish for numbers, Bingo is definitely your place to go.