Bingo

“I am not going,” Brian announced as soon as the guys finished settling themselves before their fake fireplace. “Not going - and that is that.”

“Gee whiz, Brian,” Justin protested. “You’re always such a good sport too about stuff so why….”

“You have to draw the line somewhere, Baby,” Brian told him. “And I draw the line at Bingo. You dragged me to some Bingo like – a couple of years ago - for some worthy cause or something - and I think I remember you promising then that we wouldn’t … Nope, I do not play Bingo – it’s like – too dangerous - charity or no charity – roof or no roof ….”

“Brian,” Justin contended. “That Bingo was a bit scary, I guess. But be sensible. Reverend Tom’s church – your own mother’s church – has a leaky roof. It has to get fixed and they’re short on money over there right now. We should help. This Super Bingo will cover the expenses - and folks will have a good time too – and your mother’s on the committee….”

“Well I hope the folks there all have a good time, Sweetheart,” Brian replied. “I don’t have anything against any of them – except maybe for you – so let ‘em have their good time - but I’m gonna have my good time somewhere else. You can send them a contribution if you want to. Of course I give my permission for you to go by yourself – if that’s where you want to have your good time ….”

“Darn it, Brian,” Justin complained. “I don’t think I could even show my face over there without you. Like - everybody’s going. Mikey and Ben, Malcolm and Hunter, Emmett, Ted – even Cynthia, Linz and Mel – and Gus too. I’ve already sold about 40 tickets ….”

“What about Brandon and Jason, Baby?” Brian countered. “I think Brandon hates Bingo as much as I do – and he really does make the decisions over there. How come you didn’t mention Brandon and Jason? I bet they’re not going….”

“That’s the very worst part of it, Brian Kinney,” Justin informed him. “The absolute very worst part of all. Brandon did say he wouldn’t go - but then Jason talked him into it – so they will be there. What’s my reputation going to look like if you don’t go? I won’t be able to go either. Much as I hate to do it, I’ll have to make up some story about you being sick - and me having to stay home and take care of you. That might work ….”

“Yeah,” Brian laughed, “where’s the gain even if the roof gets all paid for - if Justin Taylor’s reputation is finally and fatally besmirched in the process? Not a good trade off at all ….”

“Go ahead and laugh, Kinney,” Justin grouched – perhaps even a bit too grouchily. “Just go right ahead - if that’s the way you feel about it ….”

“Cut it out, Twink,” Brian told him cheerfully. “You’re over-acting anyhow. We can’t have the invincible Taylor reputation dragged through the mud. Couldn’t let that happen under any circumstances. I guess I’ll just have to go to the stupid Bingo – awful as it’ll be - it’s for a good cause and all ….”

“Which good cause are you talking about, Honey?” Justin grinned at him while cuddling a bit closer. “The church roof or my reputation?”

“Both, I guess,” Brian concluded diplomatically – which somehow led to a pause in the conversation - which probably should not have been unexpected in those circumstances.

“OK, Baby,” Brian resumed the conversation some time later. “But I’m only playing one Bingo card. That’s all I can handle. None of that playing a hundred cards for me. Those crazy Bingo callers are really boring people. B-10, G-47, Z-1123, and all in that same flat monotone too. They like – put me to sleep and I forget to check my card. I can’t pay attention to that stuff. You’ll have to sit next to me and watch my card. You can just like - elbow me when you want me to yell ‘Bingo.’”

“Won’t work, Kinney,” Justin laughed. “Sorry. This is Super Bingo. Everybody gets ten cards for the admission price - or you can be a super-player and get 22 cards for a double admission fee. But everybody plays at least ten cards. Gee whiz, Bri - if Gus can play ten cards, you ought to be able to …. Never mind, Honey – I’ll sit on one side of you and watch five of your cards and your mother will sit on the other side of you and watch your other five cards – along with her own 22. I’ll just get ten for myself ….”

“What’s the damn ten card thing all about anyway, Taylor?” Brian wondered. “If everybody got one card for the admission fee instead of ten, everybody would still have the exact same statistical chance of winning as they do when everybody gets ten ….”

“And will the super-statistician be willing to stand up and tell all those people they have as much of a chance to win with one card as they have with ten.” Justin was still laughing. “I hope not, Mr. Kinney. I don’t think even I could save you if you tried ….”

“Nope, I guess you couldn’t either, Babe,” Brian laughed too. “Not from those single-minded bug-eyed blood-thirsty Bingo players. They are a scary crowd all right – mob mentality and all ….”

“OK then,” Justin told him. “Now if we should be lucky enough to win, I think we should just donate whatever we win back to the building fund. That OK with you? I’m expecting to win a couple of times at least.”

“Hey, Taylor,” Brian grinned at him suspiciously. “I hope you’re not like – saying this Bingo is like – fixed. This is a church affair and I don’t think you can repair a church roof will ill-gotten gains – especially crooked Bingo winnings. I’m pretty sure the roof would still leak no matter how well you thought you fixed it, That’s the way churches are ….”

“Dog-gone.” Justin seemed in awe – overacting just slightly. “Brian Kinney the eminent expert theologian. And I never knew it till now. I learn more about you every day, BK – and some stuff is more surprising than some other stuff ….”

And – unsurprisingly though - there was another pause in the discussion at this point – a long pause - during which however it could not be claimed that Justin learned anything more about Brian than he already knew – which seemed to be OK with the kid.

And the discussion – for a change - did not resume immediately after the pause either. The guys just sat there – dreaming maybe – or just thinking – or maybe even plotting. No – not plotting. Not those two.

“Well you seem pretty satisfied with yourself, Mr. Taylor,” Brian speculated to resume the discourse.

“Yeah, I am,” Justin admitted. “I was hoping I could get you to be as enthusiastic about the Bingo as I am – and you are – but I was also afraid maybe you wouldn’t want to go – so like – everything worked out well. I couldn’t have planned it any better ….”

“Well,” Brian pointed out. “Maybe there’s one thing. Maybe you could have fine-tuned your timing just a little better, Baby.”

“Now what the hell are you talking about, Kinney?” Justin wondered. “What timing?”

“Well,” Brian was grinning at him now. “Seems like I was talking to Brandon today – and the subject of this Bingo came up by accident – or maybe it wasn’t by accident either. I’m not sure. Brandon said him and Jason were talking about this very Bingo just last night. He told Jason he was not going cause he hated Bingo and Jason told him that I had said the same thing but that you had talked me into going. Jason was supposed to be worried that you would think he – like – maybe Jason’s reputation was gonna suffer if Brandon didn’t go – especially since you had talked me into going – so Brandon figured he better go too ….”.

“Damn Jason got the wrong day, Brian,” Justin said as he slid his head onto Brian’s shoulder. “Not good at all. He’s a work in progress though. He’ll get better with experience. So you’re suggesting that I need to work a little more on timing, eh?”

“Bingo,” Brian told him – and that appeared to put a fitting end to the evening’s discussion.
 

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