Bingo

 Happy birthday to my sister Alexandra who is 30 years old today. Decade four. Time sure is marching on. Really makes you think about the pointlessness of it all. Still, she seems happy enough. I bought her some Harry Potter pyjamas from Primark, a place that I never want to shop in ever again.

Having watched Sunderland's completely preposterous yet somehow utterly predictable 6-2 defeat to Everton*, I accepted my friend Amanda's invitation to visit one of London's many bingo halls. I am new to the world of bingo and initially found it all rather overwhelming. I mumbled something about paying Amanda back later as she sorted everything out. Mostly I just nodded as she explained her resentment of the people who use the online terminals rather than a paper card.

Those people are deprived of the strangely therapeutic effect of marking off numbers on a bingo card, but seemed to be a lot more successful than their Luddite counterparts. Sadly I came away with nothing more than a couple of hours of entertainment. Overall I'm glad I went, although I have spent an awful lot of time with gamblers this week. But I'm going to spend an awful lot of time with gamblers most weeks. Hooray for the brave new world.

* I didn't even touch upon Sunderland beating Newcastle for the sixth consecutive time last week, in a victory that was as hilarious as it was glorious. But how long ago last Sunday seems now. Don't play a 3-5-2 formation unless your players are good enough and intelligent enough to track back into defensive positions, folks.

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