Monday December 16th, 2013

The exercise:

Our writing word of the day is: bingo.

I spent the majority of my shift this evening in the bowling alley, as I once again ran the Special Olympics league. It was their last week before their Christmas break, so they bowled two regular games and then requested a session of bowling bingo.

Once I figured out how to set that up on the system (and after I finally got it to work) a whole lot of fun was had.

Bowling bingo consists - at least how I ended up running it - of a team per lane, with a scorecard filled with various 5-pin bowling scores (strikes, spares, 15, etc). Teams get points for every square they achieve within a certain time limit. This evening they asked me to set it to fifteen minutes and one team managed to get all the squares... with the last one coming with less than ten seconds left.

Pretty great way to end the night.


This farmer has no dog,
Though one day I will.
I have a young boy now,
So I must. But still:
I can give you my word,
I will guarantee
I know exactly what
His name will not be.


Greg said...

How is a 5-pin bowling lane set up then? Every formation I think of need six :) Bowling bingo sounds like fun, and a good way to practice some of those trickier shots that are needed when the first has gone somehow awry!
Heh, I wonder now if you had the poem first and the prompt second? It's a nice little twist on something that I only know peripherally, but it's definitely fun!

"I don't think you've quite understood this game," said Sylvestra. Dr. Septopus, who was sitting in a lawn-chair at the boundary shook his head.
"I don't think any of you have understood this game," he said, clacking his beak sadly. "It's cricket. Or rather, it's supposed to be cricket."
"I'm dressed in white!" said Sylvestra. Her tone of righteous indignation was one that the Council of Nastiness were depressingly used to hearing.
"True," said Dr. Septopus. "But you're wearing a wedding dress, and that's hardly good for running up and down the pitch in."
"Running?" Sylvestra managed to look horrified.
"And Green," said Dr. Septopus, warming to his point now that Sylvestra hadn't exploded. "When you catch the ball after the batter has struck it, you yell 'Howzat!' Not 'Bingo!' That's a completely different game."
"See," said the Red Lightbulb to his brother, a smug smile stretching across his face. "I told you you didn't know how to play!"
"Well Red," said Dr. Septopus, "you're wearing golf spikes, which is a definite no-no on a cricket pitch, and you've confused the cricket bat with a badminton racquet. I don't think you've grounds to talk."
"Bingo!" yelled the Green Lightbulb, throwing the cricket ball at Red's head.

morganna said...

Bingo! The magic word echoed across the hall, eliciting groans from the other elderly ladies. Emily leaned across the table to her mother, Lady Pultney, and hisses, "Remind me again why we're here. And why that b***ch with the purple hair keeps winning?"

Her mother hissed back, "Patience, my dear daughter. It's all in the timing."

As the purple-haired winner returned to her table, Emily wondered about the purple hair. Was it a bluing rinse gone bad? Or a signal of some other kind? Her musings were cut short by the woman stumbling against her mother.

"Oh, so sorry, dearie," the woman shrieked. "Just lost my footing there a moment." She clutched at the table and Emily's mother, trying to right herself. Lady Pultney helped, and the old woman was soon on her way through the rows of tables.

The next round of bingo was beginning, but Lady Pultney rose and motioned to Emily. They quietly made their way through the hall and out to the parking lot. Once in their vehicle, Emily drew breath to speak, but her mother motioned her to silence. They rode back home without speaking.

Once in her sitting room, Lady Pultney turned triumphantly to Emily, holding a bingo card. "Here we are, my dear. The directions to your young man."

Emily stared in astonishment. "It was a drop all along? It was set up?"

"Don't goggle, my dear. Of course it was. You don't think I have become so decrepit as to actually enjoy bingo?"

Marc said...

Greg - it's a triangle, with the middle pin nearest the bowler. So kind of like an arrow, pointed accusingly at the attacking bowler :)

And no, the poem very definitely came second.

Haha, I just love this scene so much. Even the very idea of this gang learning cricket is smile inducing.

Morganna - neat little scene, which nicely continues the saga of Emily.

Also: great final paragraph that brought another smile to my face.