There's no cost; just come in, select 2 cards and find your place at 1 of the 3 long tables. I've always wondered if the people who show up are gamblers at heart? It would seem so. I, myself, love a good slot machine, even if I'm hesitant to admit it.
Last evening there were 18 of us and I don't remember whether I counted the callers or not. Ken spins, Shirley calls and her speed is sometimes hard to match as we players scan our cards.
I think of it as a good brain exercise, and yes, once in a while I get befuddled, but at least I can remember which game we're playing. "Are we playing diamonds?" a player will ask, in the middle of a game in which we're trying to complete a layer cake session. Sometimes I think of the hour as a sort of intelligence test and I know too well that the time is coming when I won't be quite so on top of things.
I'll admit that the possibility of the Rapture crossed my mind about that time, a half hour after I'd last seen the man, but surely there'd be a puddle of clothes as evidence if what I'd heard about it was true.
Back up I went to sit a while longer, before I tried our apartment door again........there I found him in his favorite chair contentedly watching television. If I could have captioned the scene, it would have been with the words, "ME WORRY?" over his head.
Back to Bingo.......
It was just short of an hour when we finished last evening. The prize for each game is 2 first class postage stamps which I think is brilliant, for anyone can use them and I experience a little flutter of excitement when I win a game, which didn't happen last night. Mr. Bob won a game but it takes more than 2 postage stamps to excite him, just as it takes more than my disappearance to concern him.
After the games, I stayed close by his side as he helped Ken box up the Bingo cards, the spinner cage and the balls. And we rode up on the elevator together, joined at the hip, as we say.