BINGO (part 2): Winner winner, your kitty eats too much dinner

Being slapped in the face by lady luck and shunned by the regulars the first time couldn't keep us down. We took our rightful place in those vinyl covered chairs and stared the Bingo gods right in the face and said "Eh. I guess we have nothing better to do. Why not?".

I was ready to win. This time, to be a Bingo winner, I had to think, eat and live like a bingo winner. In the quiet moments before leaving my house, I sat alone eating a frozen meal and watching a recorded late night t.v. program. I chased this with a single serve weight watchers dessert. I can only assume this was the pre-game ritual of the seasoned vets.

I gathered up some refreshments, a lucky charm, did some deep stretches, psyched myself up in the mirror and I was off.


I walked in like I owned the place. I shoved a few people out of the way and walked up to the counter.

"I'll take it all." I confidently said.I clutched my 3-ons and 6-ons like long lost friends.


The original crew plus some new faces were there.( It wouldn't be a good sequel without the introduction of new characters.) We set up camp and dug in for the long night ahead.

The first half is a blur to me. I am on a bingo high. Daubers are flying balls are rolling. I think a couple people in our group win a game. I smile and congratulate the lucky ones, but inside I hate them. I want to say "BINGO!" so bad.

After each game we sign the back of our stupid loser bingo cards so they may be entered into a drawing for some junky prize. Jilted by the evening already, I sign the back of the my cards with such names as"boobies", "boobarella", "tractor" and various drawings...including a cat. (seen here in this computer generated reproduction)

Intermission came and went. The din of the bingo crowd seemed more lively than last time. Besides being glared at by a bulldog-faced woman, everyone seemed to tolerate and (dare I say)...accept our wild crowd. I hardly noticed that the drawing for the junky prize had begun.

The caller manhandled the piece of paper, paused and leaned into the microphone.

"ummmm...Somebody drew a cat."

It didn't register completely at first. I got flush and felt the warm glow of a winner come over me. I got real hot and sweaty. I leaped from my seat, stumbled on some crap on the floor and began to run to the front. The crowd was going WILD. This was MY moment! What will I say? should I make a speech?

"You stay there. We will bring it to you" The caller said. I deflated a little and sat my perspiring ass back in the chair.

A man wearing a crew neck sweatshirt with a wildlife scene on it brings me a stack of "bonanza" cards. It's kind of an elite bingo thing. I won't bore you with the details.

At some point in the second half the wildlife sweatshirt man taps me on the shoulder and croons "I want chicken, I want liver-"

And I, in my very best singing voice complete the phrase with "Meow mix, meow mix please deliver..." Aaaand the crowd goes crazy again. I really am a hit.

Later I meowed at him and he made a b-line for our table. You could tell this was his time to finally open up to someone about his life.

"you know, I have a cat at home that is so fat. She's so fat and she has tiny legs. I have tried to put her on a diet but she eats so fast then she just...she just begs for more!"

"Sounds like she has a food addiction." I respond. Little does he know that, I too, have a big hairy pussy cat at home. It's a secret I have kept from the bingo crew until now.

Well...The bonanza cards were all losers, too. A juicebox, a bag full of lollipops a "lucky" pig and TWO trolls that smelled like pee couldn't help me. But I had my moment. The fleeting feeling that I could be touched in that special place (you know...where the swimsuit covers) by the hands of fate.

I think our bingo careers may not resume any time soon. We will always have the kitty. Here's to you, fat pussy. I will never forget.