We spent Saturday night playing bingo at a fundraiser in a West Chester church hall to support a young people's fellowship program, and what a hoot it was.
At the beginning the emcee took the microphone to spell out the rules. She said she earned her bingo chops by working at a senior citizens' home where "they take their bingo very seriously." Then another committee member selected the numbers and called them out as we scanned our bingo grids, markers at the ready.
It turned out that the number of prizes the committee had bought and wrapped far exceeded the number of bingo rounds there was time for, so after the first few games they decided they'd better allow more winners per round. Almost everyone at my table eventually won a prize, ranging from a dark-chocolate Easter bunny to an NYPD cap. A man at the next table actually had three winning cards (one of his prizes was a pink knit Eagles hat, which he wore the rest of the evening).
One man called "bingo" prematurely and had to skulk back to his seat in embarrassment to a spirited chorus of "boos" (mostly in jest) when the emcee determined that one number he had marked hadn't actually been called.
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