Jamjarjude is in town and she pulled me out of the house for a night on the town…. well a night at the Black Bear Pub anyway which is only a short drive away and didn’t require a change of clothes.
Having just balanced out my body in a yoga class, I felt the perverse urge to undo my good work with a plate full of carbs and calories.
I hadn’t eaten in a restaurant since last year, and in the interim, having become used to eating my dinner off my lap in front of the TV with Ralphie drooling at my knee, it appears that I had lost the ability to negotiate a table full of condiments and I promptly splattered ketchup all over my jeans, the upholstery, the carpet and the tabletop (I don’t do things by halves, no-sirree-bob).
After using most of the pub’s supply of paper napkins cleaning up my jeans, the upholstery, the carpet and the tabletop, we polished off our respective suppers, and Jamjar introduced me to what initially appeared to be an innocuous Canadian pub pasttime, put shortly proved to be, for me, the first short step into the abyss of a major gambing addiction. Keno.
“Pick two numbers,” she said.
“Okay, forty-one and seventeen.”
“No, not random numbers. Pick numbers that have some meaning to you.”
“No, those numbers popped into my head, so those are the numbers I want.”
Heavy sigh from Jamjarjude. “All right, then. Give me three dollars.”
So, after carefully selecting two numbers with personal meaning to her and chipping in her own three dollars, off Jamjarjude went to purchase the Keno ticket.
“Okay,” she said when she returned. “See that electronic board on the wall over there? You’ll see it light up with random numbers. Keep your eye out for your numbers and my numbers. If we get at least two of our numbers showing, we win two dollars. If we get all four numbers showing, we win a hundred dollars. We get three chances.”
“Cool,” I said. I watched the numbers pop up on the board. “Seventeen and forty-one,” I said as they flashed up onto the board. “Well, what do you know?”
“How’d you do that?” Jamjarjude said.
“Dunno. They just popped into my head. Let’s do it again.”
So, we did it again. We paid out another six dollars and chose some new numbers.
“What are your numbers this time?” Jamjarjude asked.
“Thirty-nine and sixty-three. They just popped into my head.”
“That’s a stupid method,” Jamjarjude says, promptly picking two more numbers with meaning to her.
We sat back and watched the numbers flash up onto the Keno board. “Thirty-nine and sixty-three,” I said. “Well fancy that.”
The next game flashed up onto the Keno board. “Thirty-nine and sixty-three. Blimey.”
And I made back my six dollars and broke even. I took pity on Jamjarjude who didn’t have one of her numbers that had meaning to her flash up on the Keno board and added a Toonie* to the kitty just for her.
I’m thinking maybe it’s time to buy a lottery ticket. And just let the numbers pop into my head.
*A Canadian two dollar coin. No reason you’d know this if you aren’t a Canuck.