Vera Bradley Bingo Night

Catholics love their bingo.

White ladies of all ages love their Vera Bradley.

I have been Catholic for almost twelve years now and I have never been to a single bingo night and we all know my thoughts on Ms. Bradley and her patterns...

Last week, I took part in Vera Bradley Bingo at the local Catholic Church. I went with Pat (who has requested a name change...I am still thinking), Sassy and some devout catholic Vera Bradley lovin' ladies (Annie, Suzanne and Suzanne's daughter Kitty) where I had a surprisingly good time!

I also learned something I forgot I knew.

I can influence people pretty well, to the point of random absurdity. (No, I do not always use my power for good.)

After I unofficially named our team "Loud Paisley," I settled in with cards and my marker (decorated in some NASCAR vehicle. Who races the #1 car?) and it began to sink in that I donated $20 to support a good cause in hopes that I would win a Vera Bradley bag. That and to experience Terre Haute at its most diverse. 

I know we are only 75 miles away from the Indy 500, but is nothing sacred? Not that  anything Bingo related is expected to be classy...

When I first got here, I felt that there were two Hautian categories: The Natives and those that remember a better place. Native Hautians have sub categories consisting of those that left and come back (Waiter Jeff! Still haven't emailed him in case you're wondering), those that have lived here forever and have not ventured far. When I say every kind of woman was at this event, I am not lying. I parked my car and walked in expecting to see the same kind of people I always see. 

No.

I saw wrong side of the tracks people, college students and old church ladies. I saw those un-brassiered and mullet coifed and the occasional doting husband that looked how I felt. 

I was super glad I was sitting with my LP gang. I knew them well enough and I have no problem letting people see the real Lainie so they got to know me a little better than they wanted. I know that I should a bit more...um...normal in public because I work for a prominent non-profit where the fact that I am a good and (sometimes) pious person is an expectation. 

I don't care about other's expectations of me, I just come to get the party started (ask anyone, that is my official role in life) and have a good time!

Our bingo caller is a local celebrity (one of the weekend anchors at a local TV station); I wasn't the least bit put out that I wasn't asked because I am also a local celebrity...more on that later. He did a pretty good job, even if he did let other people bingo ahead of me. I'm not bitter or anything, but the same cluster of people kept winning which lead me to believe that he was sleeping with all of those little white ladies.

I guess weekend news anchors need love too.

I shared my theory with the LP gang and after they got over the initial shock of what I said, they laughed (then promptly crossed themselves) and the co-worker formally known as Pat hit me. I have to point out that she did not hear what I said, but she knows me well and assumed it was something that put my piety in question (Lainie Mac, Pious...with a lower case "p").

Over the course of the night, the LP gang started to believe in my theory about Weekend News Anchor (WNA for short) and we may have starting booing his alleged prostitution and the effect it is having on us not winning. Because of my aforementioned knack for influencing others, I swayed them to my side without even trying; I also managed to get all of the surrounding tables joining the brouhaha.

Solidarity is awesome.

Even with their interesting ways of playing Bingo (What. Is hat pin bingo?)I was starting to get bored and scanned the room when I saw a beautiful black man enter the gym. Not just beautiful, but oh so cool looking too.

Like Samuel L. Jackson before the snakes started to piss him off cool.

This Vera Bradley bitch has got game! I can’t get a brother to show up with a knock off Coach and she has him right where she wants him.

I should start wearing paisley more.

That or become the girl he was there with.

Seriously? Hat pin?

Moving on, Father Ed from my church showed up to lend his support around this time and joined us. Just when he almost made bingo, one of the WNA’s whores claimed a prize. I looked straight at him and said “You didn’t win because WNA’s sleeping with her and all of the ladies at that table.”

Suzanne turned beet red and I am pretty sure Annie started choked on her food.

Without missing a beat, Father Ed looked in their direction then back at me and said “Well, they don’t look well rested to me.” We roared with laughter and somewhere in Heaven, God is taking years off my life.

Lainie Mac, “pious” with a silent “p.”

I didn’t win anything that night, but the admiration of my table mates…but maybe not their respect.

Although I may have attempted to soil WNA’s integrity, I did use my power for good. I made them forget about not winning anymore loud paisley that I will have to look at when they are around.

So in a way, I win too.