The wildest night out at UVA is the Alumni Association bingo evening

First off, let me say that Alumni Association is the best. They’re like the fairy godparents of the student body. They feed us, they clothe us, sometimes they let us park for free.

They fill our football weekends with punny pins, and host all sorts of events to distract us from the nine weeks of midterms we suffer through every semester.

I love you, Alumni Association. I love everything that you do for us. And I respect you. I especially respect your patience in dealing with the hordes that ransack your lovely halls on a regular basis.

That said, I take full responsibility for approximately half of this Thursday. It’s true, I underestimated the amount of wine I would need (or at least my penchant to drink way too quickly). And my class let out a solid 45 minutes late.

Apparently I overestimated my penchant to read emails. So, after a few grumbly texts from my Bingo Night partner, Edna, I rolled up to Alumni Hall at a cool 8:40, visions of campus cookies dancing in my head, ready to CRUSH some Bingo.

Like any respectable human, I took a swing through the campus cookies table to snag some chocolate chip for Edna and I. Annnd they were out. That’s OK. When you’re an hour late for something, that’s understandable. I continued on to my seat, only mildly depressed.

Here you see the stages of losing at Bingo. (The girl on the left won the last round, though, so we’re not friends anymore)

Spoiler alert: I am terrible at bingo.

Second spoiler alert: I’m even worse at this newfangled bingo the kids are playing these days. I can barely B-I-N. How do you expect me to bingo in a z-formation?

Please explain how this is not bingo

And we had fun. There’s a reason this game has lasted so long. It’s a cutthroat, down-to-the-wire nail biter kind of game. I’m honestly surprised nobody flipped a table. This kid to my right kept WOO!-ing. It was infectious.

I almost let out a little woo, myself. Almost

Now listen: in the fourth grade, I won a stuffed S.O.L lizard as a prize for being good at fourth grader stuff. I knew at that moment that I was blessed, and that my entire life would be one long ray of sunshine. I had made it: I had the lizard. Its name was Lizzie. It was orange, and I loved it.

Until this moment: we were playing Z bingo, which for those of you who aren’t “in” on the bingo lingo, means you have to get two opposite sides and a diagonal in between. And I started off strong. I mean, I was like the Seabiscuit of Z bingo. The Ronda Rousey of I-N-G-O.

Until, like Ronda, I met my undoing. For her, it was Holly Holm. For me, it was B-14

Accursed B-14. What a slap in the face. I was the underdog here, you know? I was late. My BAC was dangerously low. I had one shot. They called B-13.I could taste the sweet victory of a prize and the jealous gazes of my tablemates.

This is Victoria. She’s a second year who’s been to bingo five times this semester, but never won. If only they called b-14. She would have wanted to BE me

And then it rang out, from the next table: the triumphant squeak of a champion. Fourth grade was obviously a lie.

Still, I turned in my board feeling pretty good about life. There’s always the promise of next month. And then, I witnessed an atrocity.

At least she had the shame to cover her plate.

These sneaky creatures and their plates full of secreted cookies. Monsters. My wine-hand is shaking just thinking about them. It’s common courtesy – don’t take the plateful until the event is over. But no.

No words. Not even a shred of human decency here. Not even a napkin-full of shame

These photos may be blurry, but if you were unethical with a cookie tonight, I know your face. And I will never forget it. Maybe next Bingo night our eyes will meet over the last white chocolate macadamia. And you know what I’ll do?

I’ll give you the cookie, because I’m not a monster.