Just like Las Vegas. Except not.
A little bit of background:
Charitable Electronic Bingo (or as the blue-haired old ladies down here lovingly pronounce it, “bang-o”) is a big issue down in the Wiregrass at the moment. See, gambling is sometimes illegal/sometimes legal in Alabama (you have to check daily to know for sure, it is very ambiguous), but bingo for charity is ok.
Now, by bingo for charity, we think what the Alabama government means is like what they do down at the Shriners Hall—smoky, crowded rooms, with older ladies sitting elbow to elbow, 12 to 24 bingo cards laid out in front of each lady, purple bingo marker firmly gripped in the right hand, teal bingo marker in the left hand (you can daub twice as fast that way!), cigarette dangling from ruby red lips. All eyes glued to the monitor, watching for the next ball to pop out, hoping—nay, PRAYING—that it is B 14, the one square needed to achieve the elusive diamond shaped B-I-N-G-O. Ahh, sweet, sweet victory for those ruby-lipped, double-daubing ladies. And for the Shriners Hospital, who gets all the proceeds from the event.
One of my favorite Roseanne episodes of all time--when Roseanne gets addicted to bingo. Double-dauber style.
I’m betting that Rob would fit right in at the Shriners Hall. I can see him now, with his one bingo card (maybe two, if he’s hasn't had too much to drink already), bingo marker in right hand, Hot Pocket in left hand (they have a microwave in the back), cigarette dangling from perfectly kissable lips that suddenly declare “BINGO!” because he just won the first round with ball N 41 and is declared Bingo King for the rest of the night. (That means every time N 41 is called out, one of the bingo bosses shouts out “Pay the King!” or something like that, and the King gets $50! So it pays to be the Bingo King.)
And even though everyone in the entire building looks right at him and grumbles “Got damn” (correct spelling—that is how it sounds when old southern people say GD) every time someone yells “Pay the King!”, no one would have any idea who the hell you were. Because they’ve probably never seen Twilight, or Harry Potter, or Little Ashes. (I can almost guarantee you they’ve never seen Little Ashes.) You’ll just be the Thursday Night Bingo King to them. I know you wouldn’t mind the anonymity.
And Dali was his name-o.
So if Rob comes down on a Thursday, we can take him to the Shriners Hall for some traditional “bang-o”. We’ll stay there until they kick us out (which is 10pm, by the way) and then we’ll head down 231 South to the all night electronic bingo pavilion, turn $20 into $43.50, get sloshed on Sutter Home served chilled in a plastic cup, and JAM OUT to Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” all night long. “You gotta know when to hold ‘em…know when to fold ‘em…”
*We don't know if KStew's nickname is really "Sure Thing." We are not privy to whether or not she puts out. We just thought it was funny.