Across here to there
I stepped into the bingo hall with a newfound optimism inside me. I have never won anything at bingo, not even the gift certificates they give out at intermission. Everyone I know has won at least something, and I was always the lonely bald sheep with no bingo credentials. Being shot down by the laughter of winners and good luck trolls of lucky old bags, I made the decision to keep my head high and dabber ready. This is what I thought when I ENTERED the bingo hall...
I sat down and had an immediate reaction that I started to notice was recurring. As soon as the caller starts calling out numbers, I start to fall asleep. Now, every bingo caller across the world has an annoying, nasal twang to them, slicked back greasy ass hair, and randomly say "thank you" in the middle of a game after calling a random number. What the hell is he saying thank you to? Is it to someone in the front row that got that much closer to winning, but didn't actually win yet? Did he fart and the guy behind him commented that he smells like ass? I know I would say thank you to that.
As my eyes grew heavy and cards became blurry, I tried to resist every urge not to fall asleep. I then started to think that his calls were more and more soothing, especially during the 3-second coverall game. He called those numbers so fast, so accurately. I then started to think that when I have kids, instead of reading them bedtime stories, I will call bingo numbers out to them. They won't have to mark cards or anything, and even if I made them do that they would fall asleep after the first few calls anyway. After the whole Baby Einstein scam that people were lured in by, I decided that I could lure in the same people by creating an infomercial that guarantees sleep for your children with certain patterns of calling numbers. Want them to sleep when they're upset? Easy. Call out all "B" numbers. Want them to have nice dreams? Call out "O 69" over and over again. I've got all sorts of crazy shit happening around me. Here are some more:
1) I was out last week and ordered a vodka seltzer. Smatrick ordered the same, and The Mighty Bhor ordered a captain and coke. All of our drinks came with fruit in them, and I hate fruit with any drink. It's not about the flavor of the fruit, but more about manliness in drinks. And since my drink is already on the fence, I never like to take any chances. I threw my fruit into Smatricks glass and Bhor did the same. I thought it was funny how we unknowingly threw it in his glass, but what was better was that he gladly accepted the fruit, and pushed the fruit basket down into his drink with his straw to mix it in. He did this out of instinct as well. It's a common social assumption that fruit is for girly drinks and he's accepting the fruit with open arms. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...
2) That same night we were at a bar and started talking about Tums. On the back of each Tums container, it says not to exceed 7 tablets in 24 hours. We started to think about why there is such a warning, and the Mighty Bhor busted out with, "So, what happens you think? You eat more than 7 Tums and you just start shitting everywhere?"
I looked over at Smatrick. he laughed nervously, and said, "Uh, want a shot?"
He escaped to the bar, shoving women and children out of his way and buried himself amongst the other thirsty patrons.
Man is he wieird.
3) My best friend from Orlando called and told me he met an actor. I asked, "Who was it?"
"It was the guy from Fast and the Furious 4."
WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?
4) I was at Ms. Jameson's house and she had her best friends over for lunch. We were all talking and having a great time when the subject of dog treats came up. The one friend (let's call her Megan) asked if anyone knew about dog cupcakes and cookies. I had seen them before, and raised my hand like a third grader with the correct answer. She then went on to say:
"Don't the cupcakes for dogs look delicious? They look better than human cupcakes. You ever try one? I'm embarrassed to say this, but I tried one. And let me tell you, it was delicious. I bought one for myself."
I couldn't believe my ears. I asked, "Did you really try it? Like, really?"
She replied, "Oh yeah. It looked so good and it WAS GOOD."
I wanted to excuse myself from the table before laughing, but it was like being in a classroom again and trying not to laugh in front of the teacher. I couldn't hold it in. I laughed. Obnoxiously. Right in her face. Tears rolling down my face. Bursts of "I can't believe you ate dog food!" and "That's so weird!" came out of my mouth like an erupting volcano. Couldn't. Stop. Laughing.
After it was all calmed down, I was still laughing, even more obnoxiously. The rest of the table seemed to fizzle on the joke, but I remained fully amused. Yes, I was THAT guy at the table. Perfectly fine with me.
