Sunday, November 11, 2007

Everyone hates a tourist.

It is a line from one of my favorite songs Common People by Pulp. It is on almost all of my mixes, and will continue to be. LOVE IT!

It is also so true.

Ok, so how does this relate to anything? WELL ...

I am back in the Chuck and randomness follows me, everywhere. I love it. Jarod and I had a date planned. I love our dates. They are very rarely sober and NEVER boring.

So, we reduced our sobriety and went about our date ... BINGO! No, seriously, we had planned on going for bingo. *side note - the boy I am dating is named Paul, weird, I know, so to differentiate him from the other Pauls, the boy is referred to as P3* I had begged P3 to go to bingo a couple of weeks ago and he thought I was crazy. So Jarod and I planned on fulfilling our curiosity without our mates.

We go to WEM ... a panic attack waiting to happen - going to WEM on a Saturday this close to Christmas is not a wise idea ... unless you are into that sort of thing, and if you are, I would like you to stop reading this blog. Permanently.

Ok, ok, getting on with it. We had some lag time until bingo started so we played a little mini-golf. Jarod won, by three strokes. He is sooooo lame.

And then we got our dabbers ready and went for bingo. First, this was one unwelcoming scenario. I had no idea how complicated bingo was. The cashier was spouting off this jargon that both Jarod and I, as educated and travelled as we are, were confounded. So finally we figured out it was $3 to get in and play. THANK YOU!

It was random, I mean I don't think I will go back to bingo anytime soon, but it was definitely interesting. For a an hour, Jarod and I were the tourists, in a very foreign land. We were disliked, frowned upon and judged. By people in sweatpants, eating fries and gravy. Really?

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