There was a farmer, had a nugg and bingo was the game -o

Growing up my mother would “do BINGO night”

She helped out with the local parish's big weednesday night event and would spend the evening with a bunch of older ladies,

Image from Google search result

in the stuffy smoke-filled gymnasium of some local school,

….mostly helping out with their fatty, bright colored, bingo markers, and getting their many squares ready. …mostly.

She really didn’t like bingo
and would often complain when she returned, that she couldn’t get the smell of all that cigarette smoke off of her. Sadly, to this day she totally hates bingo, even that corny song.

Anyways…. These days, I tend to spend a lot more time thinking about "Bingers" than than the aforementioned game-o with that name-o,

and I’ve recently learned that smoky filled bingo halls are still around, it's just that the smoke is definitely different.

Fairly recently, I attended a bingo event that happens regularly at the Summit Lounge
in Worcester. (Don’t tell mom)

Folks were sitting at their tables, smoking weed together, while being mindful of the particular individual numbers arbitrarily being called out to the canngregation.