The picture above is me playing bingo. As we both fail to win the $50 jackpot for the first round, we realize that the fifty is split four ways, really making the jackpot almost completely worthless after tax. I dip my marker in nacho cheese for good luck, making my marks green with an orange halo around them.
During the next two games, we realize the odds are against us. Several people have a half-dozen packs in front of them, and I learn that the interstellar communication devices are actually e-bingo, which means that the players just pay for their e-packs and the machine keeps track of all their bingo cards for the them. I assume there are three groups of people that pay for these: 1) the grizzled gamblers that are just in this for the money, not for the markers; 2) the grizzled smokers who simply can't sit inside for an entire game and instead sit outside smoking and watching their e-bingo; and 3) the feeble-minded who simply can't wrap their minds around what "B 3" means, or who lack the coordination to match the called number with the sheet in front of them. Most likely, there is a complex combination of these three conditions.
We leave a couple hours later penniless but with our dignity intact, despite having been taken for all our cash (actually, all my cash, as my playing partner operates on a debit-/credit-only basis) by a group of elderly women and high school band members. I take comfort in knowing that a young tuba player may march because of my contribution. Besides, I have a nacho-flavored green bingo marker to remember that wonderful night.