This is from 2013, not long after we moved to Portland. I’ve fixed a few typos and tightened a line here and there but, for better and worse — I admittedly cringe a bit — I’ve kept the voice I wrote it in at the time. Monster Potion is where the old stuff lives, so I’d rather you read what I actually wrote than a 2026 version of it. Otherwise, there’d be no point keeping them.
So I’ve been calling bingo at the local senior center on Monday afternoons. The week before last, a mere one day after my bingo training, I got thrown right into the pit to lead my first session.
It’s only now that I feel comfortable talking about it.
It was a Monday. Game time 1:00 pm. I arrived at 12:45 to set up.
Walking 4 in a 2
My first lesson of the day came just moments after I entered the building: Apparently I walk really fast. Perhaps too fast, at least for a place like a senior living facility.
I had just scaled the stairs to the second floor and was walking down the hallway to The Parlor, as I like to call our room of bingo, when I found myself gaining on an inbound bingo player, and rapidly.
As I pulled up to the left bumper of her walker, I recognized her from the week before: It was Jennifer. She was moving along slowly but surely, and there I was about to whiz by at 4 mph.
In a 2 mph zone.
Easy chief. Why hurry?
Quickly walking more slowly, Jennifer and I had a nice conversation as we walked the rest of the way to The Parlor. I was grateful I had cooled my jets.
And it was interesting to note just how challenging it was to really slow down.
Someone Ring The Bell, Already
We arrived soon enough, with plenty of time to set up and chit-chat with the ladies, passing the minutes while we waited for the clock to strike 1:00.
Tensions were mounting noticeably as they impatiently awaited game time. As I’ve learned pretty quickly, this bingo bell does not ring at 1:01.
One woman asked how I’d decided to volunteer at the senior center, which for some reason threw me a bit. I told her that our family had just moved to Portland after traveling around the world for eight months and that, as we established our new home in the area, I wanted to get involved with an important community that I drive by every day.
That seemed to go over okay.
While I fumbled around with the tools of the trade — the bingo cards, automatic card shuffler, plastic gold doubloons, and the funny money for which they can cash in their doubloons — a woman named Margaret, sitting directly to my left, kindly asked to which countries we had traveled.
I appreciated the prompt because I was interested in sharing a bit about me. After all, I’m really not just there to call bingo — I’m keen to connect with and get to know the folks living there.
I more or less gave the ladies the top line on our trip, at which point one woman laughed and said we’d done it backward. When I started explaining, she said she was kidding because ‘most people do it the other way.’
In fact, many of them remarked how they’d always planned to see the world but just got too sick or old before they could do it. Admittedly, this felt good to hear because it’s easy for Robyn and me to second-guess ourselves as we get our family situated.
As I’m guessing most of the people living at the senior center would tell me, life really is too short.
Francis, Tne Sneak Peeker
Anyway, after a couple more auto-shuffles of the cards, we finally get the game underway.
The first card is G72, which I read before placing it on the table in front of me so I can cross-check when someone calls bingo. The idea is to create a column for each B, I, N, G, and O — and the cards called with those letters get placed in a line of cards going downward.
I know, pretty rad org skills on my part.
Just as I set the first card on the table, Francis, on my right, reaches over to adjust the placement of the G72 card, whispering that I won’t have room to spell B-I-N-G-O cards comfortably.
Okayyy. I’m annoyed but this is one I can let go.
The games play on, and Francis consistently tries sneaking a peek at the card as I turn each one over.
WTF, Francis?
Then, it dawns on me that she has a genuine need to see the cards because, even though she’s sitting closer to me than anyone else in the room, she has trouble hearing me. She isn’t just trying to get the inside track; she needs visual confirmation of the cards I’m calling. My bad.
Thank goodness I only said ‘WTF?!’ in my head!
Be-Nign,
Most of the ‘B’s are fun to read, really. The ‘I’s are pretty good too.
Now comes the quote of the day…
At one point between games — there’s no talking during — a woman named Betty at the far end of the table shouts to another woman about a man named Robert who apparently had been living at the senior center:
‘It’s better he died!!’
And not in the he-was-in-so-much-pain-I’m-glad-he’s-in-a-better-place sorta way. As near as I can tell, she really is glad that dude croaked.
Nobody else paid much attention, which signaled how obviously common the topic of death is in a senior home, or the guy really was a prick. In this case I got the sense that it was some combination of those factors.
Still Wondering
As the day’s round of bingo came to a close, I still had so many thoughts and questions bouncing around my mind:
I hope Francis wins because she seems like a sweet woman, even if I’m still convinced she’s sneaking a peek. What can I do to make this bingo time as enjoyable as possible for these folks?
Morbidly, I wonder how many of these women are widows. Morbidlierer, which of them will die first? It’s awful and yet seems reasonable to wonder. How can I liven up the game a bit? Do they even want it livened up? How can I drive more attendance at bingo? How can I get more men to join? Am I really setting up goals and success metrics for how I operate the bingo classes? Wow, isn’t it amazing that I’m in a room with over 1,000 years of wisdom?
Bottom line: I’m loving my time visiting with these folks. As silly as I’m being about the whole experience, I really do feel honored to get these opportunities.
Hat Trick
And yes, I am setting some goals. I intend to get >18 people to show up (the average is currently 13), and I intend to get at least one man to come play (right now there are none). I need to check the community rules around postering, flyering, door-to-door promotion, and email marketing.
As for Francis, whom I’d been pulling for: She ended up getting a hat trick.
So I was pretty psyched about that.
Monster Potion was our family blog, at the now-defunct monsterpotion.com. We wrote about life in general, including our travels around the world in 2012 and 2013, and went quiet by 2014. The pieces republished here are some of mine.
Read more at omnipolar.ai/s/monster-potion
