BINGO B.S!

Never thought I’d live long enough to engineer anything even close to this type of mindset, but here I am. Maybe I survived all those eighteen-year-old nitrous balloon hits because it is my life calling to expose to a very naive and vulnerable society that “BINGO IS BULLSHIT! It is a very dangerous game.

Sure- it holds the reputation of being a fun, easy going form of the quiet man’s casino gambling. Not to mention it even offers free donuts! Just like a childhood, post Sunday Mass, to make me feel safe and at ease. And then Boom. Like an explicit and unedited documentary, without warning, I feel completely helpless and uncertain of my belief and security of the future.

Add to that all the daily social media content reminding me that I am in control of my own destiny, and that what I believe is what comes to fruition. My thoughts create my reality! This is all great and helpful.

Until I played BINGO four straight days in a row!

Sitting back with absolutely zero control of my fate- just hoping my numbers pop up. All for a free donut and Root Beer.

Forced to celebrate the winners around me even though I violently curse them the moment they raise their arm in the air in a jubilant cry of BINGO- with the unwavering swagger and confidence like they just proved the Earth actually IS flat.

Have there been any studies done on the self-esteem levels of the average avid Bingo goer? Should this pastime be flagged like vaping?

I played four out of the five straight days I was performing at the Edgewater Casino in Laughlin, Nevada. I Never won. Not once. Not one dollar. Yet I refused to give up because the NBA has taught me that persistence wins trophies! Then on day five realized I had already spent $120 on Bingo and decided a solo boat rental ride around the river while watching couples ride tandem on jet skis would be not only cheaper but less depressing.

I know a lot of you will want to counter this with the argument that ALL gambling is pointless and out of our control, but I beg to differ- at least some casino machines have the decency and respect to make me think I am making a choice- in control- navigating my own fate.

Even with video poker I am dealt a set of virtual playing cards in which, unlike most of my relationships, I feel I still maintain the powerful, dominant hand in choosing which ones are valuable enough to be saved for the future or discarded without a second thought.

Sorry…awkward outburst. I may be in need of a snack…

Even with something as mindless as slot machines I am still in charge of slowly, mindfully, often cautiously, walking the entire Casino floor, multiple times if necessary, perusing the entire shiny video arcade exhibition of possibilities, to get a feel of which boisterous one of them appears to be “calling my name” as my grandma Shirley used to say.

Blackjack or card tables I can at least blame the dealer if necessary!

But with BINGO the only thing I am required is to reach into my pocket and dish out the money then it’s just all thoughts and prayers from there. I don’t even get to choose my own Bingo card!

Correction- BINGO screen. I’m not about to do all that archaic paperwork searching thru countless sheets for my numbers, only to possibly get it wrong and wrongfully yell out BINGO!, only to be humiliated when the emotionless fact checker comes over and realizes I spelled BONG instead.

I’ll just take the lazy players iPad please. I need to keep these fingers nice and rested for my late night vending machine purchase.

I understand this is an odd argument to spend some precious life moments on, and I am certainly not gonna go so far as to say I’d choose to die on this hill- but I will continue the fight to warn unsuspecting victims of the possibly dangerous allure of the free donut!