I left my husband and daughter to go have "date night" with my best friend. We are both new moms, both through adoption, both this year, although she wins the prize. She adopted two toddlers. TWO. Toddlers. I bow to her.
To make sure we don't run off and leave our husbands holding the bag, they get parenting duty all to themselves one night a week. So we women folk can go play bingo. That's right, we play bingo. And we're not 80, living in a residential care facility. We both have our bingo accouterments. Bobble heads, hers Justin Timberlake; mine The Trinity Killer from "Dexter". What? He's a FICTIONAL serial killer. Plus the ten or so daubers between us, because you never know which color might be the "lucky" color.
Our bingo game is held at the local Synagogue. The Jews that run this game must be making a mint, because their is no other way the lovely people that work bingo night could do so without being heavily compensated. I never knew that people could take bingo so seriously. What started out as my driving by and seeing the "Bingo is Back!!!" sign and wondering if I should give it a try has turned into something that cannot be missed.
Yes, we are two of the youngest players there. It is also true that neither one of us NEEDS to win bingo in order to say, pay our rent, or feed a possible "habit" (if you catch my drift). The bingo crowd at Kneseth Israel is quite colorful, to say the least. Each week we come hoping to win back the money we spent on cards, but we end up getting a floor show that is worth twice that amount. Who knew that bingo could bring out the craven bitch in little old ladies? Or that the hapless dude calling the numbers would get heckled? We certainly didn't, but it gives us plenty to snicker at. There is "Crazy Cat Lady", not sure why we named her this, but she is also the one that constantly talks aloud to no one in particular. "Misery Guts" is a hard-looking woman with a deep, deep voice who looks like she would slit your throat to win that $25 prize. These two are usually responsible for most of the bingo drama. When the poor man trying to break the rules down was speaking, Crazy began hollering at him about how the rules should be changed, at which point Misery blasted her with "shut the hell up and let the man SPEAK!"
One night early on, I turned to my friend and said "this must be like penance for the Jews, because no one would willingly work this." It's become a running joke, because every person that has worked bingo night has been verbally assaulted if not straight out bullied. When Misery was upset about the numbers being called tonight, she yelled at the caller to "shake his balls up", then demonstrated by hopping up and down in her seat, presumably shaking her big, hairy balls. The caller turned every shade of red, and probably wished and swore he'd never break another Jewish rule again.
Waiting for me when I got home was a still and quiet house. Three cats outside doing whatever it is cats do at night; two slumbering Pugs, doing exactly what Pugs do best; and a sleeping baby and husband. A perfect ending to an evening of debauched gambling down at the Synagogue. Mama's batteries are re-charged! Also, waiting on my computer was an apology from my mom, and an offer to babysit Saturday night while she sends us to dinner... on her. I am a WINNER tonight!