The Dark Underbelly of Bingo

Back in days of old when knights were bold one of my grandmothers was addicted & drug (dragged?) me along a couple of times. I remember 12 to 16 cards arrayed before me and the mad scramble to find B4 before the next number came up. There was no chanting after each number and no blood was spilled when Eythel filled in the last number on her 14th card from the top.

A couple of years ago while in the land of sunshine and alligators Ma expressed a desire to have a round or two so we packed into the rental-mobile and headed toward the beach where there was a BIG HUGE Bingo Hall. Upon entering we noticed the hundreds and hundreds of empty seats (daytime & Bingo don't mix apparently) but the game was still on and we were offered some electronic gizmo upon which we were to make our mark. After a rambling explaination of what these doohickits were, how to use them, and just how much each one cost (per game) Ma kind'a lost interest so we exited the way we came in and traveled on down the road to the Love Boat ice cream parler where they serve some of the best, handmade, ice cream I've ever had.

(Nope, don't own any of that joint either.)

Would you rather have grams standing up against a craps table blowing on the dice?

Oh Gawd no!! She's been dead for decades now!!