Last night we bingoed it up. (I am at home in Arizona visiting my family, mind you.)
And up until last night a bingo hall meant some temporarily converted Moose Lodge in Midwesternville, Midwest that the good old boys let their big haired wives take over for the evening so they will stop giving them shit about the mess in the garage.. Not the case here in the desert, my friends.
In Arizona the bingo halls are IN the Casinos. Merle Haggard and both George Bush territory.
The spectacle of walking up to the casino almost made up for the fact that I had mini heart attacks all night as I was a mere two daubed numbers away from hundreds of dollars.
We were at the luxurious Lone Butte Casino:
|Lone Butte Casino|
Talk and be shushed. Library rules apply. These people mean Busy-Ness.
The biggest sign that these women were not to be fucked with was the latest development in bingoing. News Flash: the days of the dauber are slowly dying my friends.. They actually have electronic machines now that you purchase a code from the teller window for, input said code and then watch the display of your cards as electronic dots cover the predetermined number with the corresponding number of the balls that are announced.
But I must say if you are ever in Arizona and you want to smoke indoors and hang with a room full of people who have some STORIES kid, haunt the Lone Butte.
I knew the way that Lady Luck had treated other guys she'd been with...and Luck was no lady with me.
I love you New York. I will be in your arms tonight.