I had a dog he had a name and Bingo was his name-o

After my birthday party last night (which was so fun!, thanks to everyone for coming!!) we drove up to the Plano Bingo parlor. Now, you may associate the word "parlor" with finery and grace, but thankfully this establishment had none of that. It was strictly all business, no frills bingo action. Participants are encouraged to bring their own food and booze, although snacks involving cheese from gallon cans and dispensed from boxes stating "great for schools and daycares" are sold for those caught unprepared for the long haul of 10 rounds of bingo. Ink daubers, critical to the game and mandated by the state of Texas, are also offered next to the Slim Jims and microwaved popcorn.
Some things defied my expectations:
The man who seemed to run the place was a very normal man with an northern accent like a cross between JFK and Mike Ditka.
The elderly were not the majority.
One row of dots is not enough to make a bingo. Two lines is the minimum.
The entire operation of Bingo gaming is state regulated.


Birthday festivities courtesy of Plano Bingo.


Look how many people play bingo!



At 10pm other places close their doors, but at Plano Bingo, it's when the fun begins.



Smoking mullet, hot dog, stryofoam cup, can you feel the energy?


I call this compostion: "Bingo Still Life."


By day, Carrie Christy is a mild mannered SMU law student, but at night, she's a bingo-daubin-fool.