Tonight I immersed myself into an alien world, the likes of which I had never before been privy to. No, I hadn’t decided to eat a salad – far worse. I played online bingo for a bit to see why they seem to advertise it to insane fat women on telly. It’s all in the name of research, obviously.
I can actually see why the bingo in particular could eat so much into someone’s funds – and I don’t just mean from the perspective that gambling is so deliciously addictive (my self-imposed deposit limit on Ladbrokes is testament to that*). No, what I played was so insanely easy to do, so laid back and so out of your hands it’s easy to forget you’re actually playing with real money. You simply click a couple of buttons to buy your tickets then either sit there watching intently, maybe chatting with the reams of pillocks in the chat section, or just go do something else for five or ten minutes and come back to see if you’ve won money. That’s bloody dangerous for a bored housewife/husband/drunk bloke who is bored (not me. I’m not drunk).
I’m actually writing this while a round is playing out in the back – I can see it behind this Word document. I have three balls to go, apparently. Which isn’t something I hear often. If I get a full house I’m able to take home the tidy sum of £21.91 – not too shabby, seeing as that would feed me for a couple of weeks… In fact… I really could win at this… It could be better than working… I could live the high life, free from responsibility and able to buy all the beans I want!
Or I could play blackjack… Or roulette! Always bet on black… Hmm…
*That makes it sound like I have a gambling problem – I don’t. I rarely, if ever gamble.