like fun.” Mr. Pierre brought back drinks from the bar for everyone.
“Now pay attention. We’re putting up a sample on the board here. Peepbean!”
“Huh?” Peepbean hadn’t been paying attention.
Mutzi said in a nice voice, “Put up the blackout sheet.”
“Oh.”
The blackout sheet was a special four cards printed on one sheet of paper. You paid for four cards. A regular bingo card cost one or two dollars depending on the game but the blackout sheet was going to cost us eight dollars. The pot would depend on how many people showed up. The limit was one blackout sheet to a player per blackout game. This differed sharply from our regular games where you could play as many cards as you wanted. Vernabuilt herself a little shelf to hold her cards upright so she could keep track of them and she could play up to ten at a time. Mutzi kept explaining to us that
all
twenty-five numbers on one of the cards had to be blacked out, or called. The pot was also determined by how many numbers it took to get the blackout. So if fewer than fifty-five numbers were called, the pot would be pretty big, a couple thousand dollars on a big weekend. If more than fifty-five numbers were called, the pot was reduced.
Half the proceeds of every pot went to Saint Rose of Lima. Without the income the church couldn’t have continued its Meals on Wheels for the shut-ins and elderly. And the church was in constant need of renovation. The first part of Saint Rose’s had been built in 1680. The only church older was Christ Lutheran Church on Emmitsburg Pike right off the Square. As the Germans came here first, they built a church before anyone else. The cornerstone was laid in 1662. Saint Paul’s Episcopal, catty-cornered from Saint Rose’s, wasn’t established until 1707. They made up for being Johnny-come-lately by being richer than the rest of us. The Chalfontes, Rifes, and Yosts endowed Saint Paul’s. Bingo endowed Saint Rose’s. Christ Lutheran missed the boat and kept mounting funding drives which exhausted its membership, of which I was one. We’d have been better off with gambling. I was in favor of craps myself, but the pastor frowned upon my idea. Actually, the pastor frowned upon me. I tried not to let it interfere with my sporadic attendance.
“Peepbean will pass out blackout sheets so you can study them at home and get the idea. We’ll have a dry run in a couple of weeks and see how we do.” Mutzi cranked up the Ping-Pong ball machine again.
“Do you get it?” Mr. Pierre inquired of me.
“Kind of.”
Louise was turning puce-faced as Mother wove her web around Ed. Bingo couldn’t end soon enough for me. I wanted no part of a fight tonight. I was exhausted. The
Clarion
sale preyed on my mind more than I realized. When Mutzi banged the cowbellto close the evening I could feel the tension ebb out between my shoulder blades. We’d made it. Mr. Pierre seemed relieved too.
Mother invited me in for a late-night snack. That meant a hot fudge sundae with pretzels. I can’t eat late at night or I have nightmares, but I came in anyway and watched her devour a monstrous sundae. I had a cup of Sleepytime tea while an ecstatic Goodyear played with Lolly. Pewter ignored the dogs.
“He’ll call me before Wednesday. Want to bet on it?”
“I’m not betting with you, Mom.”
“Where’s your sporting blood?”
“Any woman who’s trying to buy a newspaper and makes twenty-four thousand dollars a year has sporting blood.”
“Mmm.” She licked the last heaping mound of fudge off her spoon. “Whenever I have religious doubts I remember the hot fudge sundae.” She leaned back in her chair. “There’s something I want to get off my chest.” She reached in her bra, pulled out her falsies, and threw them on the floor. She whooped with laughter. So did I.
“I thought you looked packed.”
“I want Ed Tutweiler Walters to ask me out. Better a girl has tits than brains, because boys see better than they
“Now pay attention. We’re putting up a sample on the board here. Peepbean!”
“Huh?” Peepbean hadn’t been paying attention.
Mutzi said in a nice voice, “Put up the blackout sheet.”
“Oh.”
The blackout sheet was a special four cards printed on one sheet of paper. You paid for four cards. A regular bingo card cost one or two dollars depending on the game but the blackout sheet was going to cost us eight dollars. The pot would depend on how many people showed up. The limit was one blackout sheet to a player per blackout game. This differed sharply from our regular games where you could play as many cards as you wanted. Vernabuilt herself a little shelf to hold her cards upright so she could keep track of them and she could play up to ten at a time. Mutzi kept explaining to us that
all
twenty-five numbers on one of the cards had to be blacked out, or called. The pot was also determined by how many numbers it took to get the blackout. So if fewer than fifty-five numbers were called, the pot would be pretty big, a couple thousand dollars on a big weekend. If more than fifty-five numbers were called, the pot was reduced.
Half the proceeds of every pot went to Saint Rose of Lima. Without the income the church couldn’t have continued its Meals on Wheels for the shut-ins and elderly. And the church was in constant need of renovation. The first part of Saint Rose’s had been built in 1680. The only church older was Christ Lutheran Church on Emmitsburg Pike right off the Square. As the Germans came here first, they built a church before anyone else. The cornerstone was laid in 1662. Saint Paul’s Episcopal, catty-cornered from Saint Rose’s, wasn’t established until 1707. They made up for being Johnny-come-lately by being richer than the rest of us. The Chalfontes, Rifes, and Yosts endowed Saint Paul’s. Bingo endowed Saint Rose’s. Christ Lutheran missed the boat and kept mounting funding drives which exhausted its membership, of which I was one. We’d have been better off with gambling. I was in favor of craps myself, but the pastor frowned upon my idea. Actually, the pastor frowned upon me. I tried not to let it interfere with my sporadic attendance.
“Peepbean will pass out blackout sheets so you can study them at home and get the idea. We’ll have a dry run in a couple of weeks and see how we do.” Mutzi cranked up the Ping-Pong ball machine again.
“Do you get it?” Mr. Pierre inquired of me.
“Kind of.”
Louise was turning puce-faced as Mother wove her web around Ed. Bingo couldn’t end soon enough for me. I wanted no part of a fight tonight. I was exhausted. The
Clarion
sale preyed on my mind more than I realized. When Mutzi banged the cowbellto close the evening I could feel the tension ebb out between my shoulder blades. We’d made it. Mr. Pierre seemed relieved too.
Mother invited me in for a late-night snack. That meant a hot fudge sundae with pretzels. I can’t eat late at night or I have nightmares, but I came in anyway and watched her devour a monstrous sundae. I had a cup of Sleepytime tea while an ecstatic Goodyear played with Lolly. Pewter ignored the dogs.
“He’ll call me before Wednesday. Want to bet on it?”
“I’m not betting with you, Mom.”
“Where’s your sporting blood?”
“Any woman who’s trying to buy a newspaper and makes twenty-four thousand dollars a year has sporting blood.”
“Mmm.” She licked the last heaping mound of fudge off her spoon. “Whenever I have religious doubts I remember the hot fudge sundae.” She leaned back in her chair. “There’s something I want to get off my chest.” She reached in her bra, pulled out her falsies, and threw them on the floor. She whooped with laughter. So did I.
“I thought you looked packed.”
“I want Ed Tutweiler Walters to ask me out. Better a girl has tits than brains, because boys see better than they
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