Have you ever had a nightmare where you find yourself in a smoky room packed with bodies of all shapes and sizes? With voices that rose and fell in a rhythmic drone? I lived that nightmare! I went to BINGO!! Being agoraphobic, I hadn't been to one in 12 years, so it was an adventure as well as a challenge.
Accompanied by a fellow sufferer, we set out to reintroduce ourselves into the world of gambling. We decided to get there a little earlier than the others so that we could sit at the rear of the hall. We would feel more relaxed there. As we entered, we saw, to our dismay, that the hall was already three-quarters filled, but with our well-trained eyes, we spotted two empty chairs and immediately claimed them.
Going to the counter to purchase our cards, we discovered that we could purchase an early bird card and a jackpot card as well as the regular bingo card. We felt capable of handling this so we bought what was offered. Settling back into our seats, we took stock of the situation. Through the thick smoke, the ticket sellers were dashing back and forth, loudly informing the patrons what they could win, should they have the lucky ticket. The babble of voices was deafening and it was very warm. Feeling my face begin to flush, I removed my sweater, hoping it wouldn't get much warmer. I only had one more layer of clothing to remove. But as the people continued to surge in, I knew the place would be like an oven before the night was over.
As I looked around the table where we were seated, I saw that in front of each player was a small bottle. I didn't know what they were used for and neither did my friend. We soon found out! As the first game got underway, the bottles were picked up, turned upside down and dabbed onto the cards when a correct number was called. We frantically dug through our handbags for a pen or pencil so that we could also play the game.
This diversion was a great tension reliever, for we laughed hilariously while trying to recall the numbers that we had missed. What a way to start the evening!
At one point during the night, I noticed that I needed one number for a win. It was 066. Suddenly I found myself experiencing several of the symptoms of an anxiety attack - sweaty palms, trembling hands, pounding heart. If they called out the number I needed, I would die on the spot. There was no way I could shout "BINGO"! Leaning across to my friend, I told her I needed one number. She looked at me and said, "You're on your own!" The phobic turncoat! 0..65! Wow! That was close! I used a tissue to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Relax! Let the stomach muscles sag! 0..62! Oh my, I can't handle this! I'm going to have to leave. 0..75! Please don't call my number! Please! Will someone please get a BINGO! 0..67! Well, how do you like that. They have a winner. I needed one number for the longest time and they wouldn't call it. The unfairness of it all!
As the evening wound down, so did we. Our concentration span had shortened drastically. The cards before us were a blur. In fact, the entire hall was a blur!
We didn't win anything, except the confidence that comes with each new challenge. As the last number was called, bedlam broke loose. We found ourselves caught up in the stampede of hundreds of people, all endeavouring to be the first ones to exit. Our feet never touched the floor until we were outside. Gasping and inhaling the cool night air, we pointed our weary bodies towards home.
Never again! We both agreed on that. Should one of us weaken in the future and merely mention the word BINGO, the other has permission to slap the offender's face with her hyperventilation bag!
