Bingo

About ten years ago, I went through a little old lady phase. No, I didn't need help crossing the street or watch "Wheel Of Fortune" with the volume all the way up. I played bingo. Not just any bingo. High stakes bingo. Well, high stakes for bingo. My other half and I would pack a bag of supplies and drive to the Seminole bingo hall in Tampa. Finding a decent parking space was never easy and because large groups of retirees were shuttled in from places far and wide, it was even harder to find two seats together inside. And this was no church bingo hall. This was 1,000 seats worth of cafeteria tables full of mostly little old ladies trying their random luck to win thousands of dollars.

Since it was on reservation ground, it was not subject to Florida smoking laws. Fortunately, there was a non-smoking bingo room separate from the rest of the hall, but you had to walk through the smoked-filled hall to get to it, then you had to climb a flight of stairs. It was like punishment for going against the norm, like asking for a glass of water in a bar and being forced to dunk your head in a bucket of beer first.

Once in the non-smoking room, we'd hunt out two seats and start the ritual set up - spread out our multi-game packs, tape them to the table, set out our ink dobbers, scan the list of the night's scheduled games (typically fifteen 75 number games, with periodic specials), then I'd head down to the snack bar to retrieve drinks and the best curly fries on the planet.

Then the fun would start. We'd play 9-12 cards simultaneously, but we were amateurs. These frail little women surrounding us would have 18 games going at a time, dobbing ink on their papers with seek-and-destroy lightning speed and still having time to rub their lucky troll dolls before the next ball was called. We were half their age and they played us under the table.

The night ended with the big payoff games, Jackpot Bingo and the Bonanza, which routinely paid into the low thousands. Always a lot of anticipation there. Then we'd pack up and file out into the smoke-free night air, usually a bit lighter in the pocket for our efforts, but certainly entertained. There's always fun when there's a chance of a windfall, no matter how small. And we did win a number of times, once five times in a single session. Invading the elderly's game hall was one thing, but winning? We were dodging old lady glares and troll dolls that night, for sure.

A few years later, the bingo hall was demolished to make room for the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. Once in a while, my wife will say, "I wanna dob ink on paper." I'd just like one more order of Seminole curly fries - hold the smoke.