My wonderful wife went to play bingo with a friend last night. This is her first forray into the bingo world. I am happy that she’s out enjoying herself but I feel a certain unease. Bingo occupies a definite place in U.K. culture. The tradition is that it’s entertainment for old, working-class women. (The flaps of fat that some old ladies develop behind their upper arms are affectionately known as “bingo wings” as a result.)
Bingo is a game of utterly no skill whatsoever. Maybe that’s the attraction: the excitement of a possible win, without the need to engage one’s brain? So is my enease just a case of snobbery? I am tempted to think it is.
Bingo
27 Wednesday Jun 2012
Posted in Bingo, Class, Entertainment, Gambling, Life, Musings, Thoughts, Uncategorized
