Saturday, February 11, 2006

When it comes to Britain's "National Game" David is very much in favour of an occasional trip to some hall or other to try his luck against hundreds of others all armed to the back teeth with felt pens and 'dobbers' whereas I'd rather set my own face on fire while stabbing myself repeatedly with a large blunt kitchen knife.

My problem with bingo is that I've always had a real problem with numbers. If you need someone to remember any combinations, phone numbers or pretty much any other number-related thing you'd be much better off asking someone else. My party trick is being given a three-digit number and magically forgetting it within two seconds - in fact I can usually do the same feat with a two-digit number. I'm all right with one-digit numbers.

You spend an evening with some acne-ridden lad stood in the middle of the hall shouting out numbers while I use my digit-defying memory to find them on a sheet of paper and colour 'em in. It is truly incredible how fast the caller can call the numbers, and how fast my brain can either mix-up, swap round or simply forget them again. It's like asking a blind person to choose paint colours.

Of course my other problem with bingo is that I never win.

Posted by Antz at 3:39 PM | Permalink | | |

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