They say the wages of sin is death, so I’m looking over my shoulder for the little man with the scythe and the black cloak.  Yesterday I gained some sinful wages by … gambling.

Yes I know I’ve mentioned before that if I had a vice it would be gambling, but this is not gambling as such in a casino where I’m frittering away all the housekeeping money hour after mind-numbing hour, it’s a nightly game of linked Bingo at our holiday site which lasts about 30 minutes.  About 20 parks nationwide link up, and the prize money can grow up to about £4000 for a full house if enough people play.

Last night the prizes were £600 for one line, £1700 for a full house, and £3000 for the jackpot full house.  Guess who won £1700?


It’s quite stressful waiting for that last number.  My heart rate increased until it threatened to jump out of my chest, and then my reedy voice squeaked as loud as it could when number 26 was called out.  Thankfully the member of staff on the desk heard it, but then about 200 heads turned my way to have a stare at the winner and complain to each other that they only needed one more number.

I smiled at the rubberneckers, gave my bank details to the guy on the desk, then legged it out of the clubhouse as fast as I could before the kiddie disco began.  I’m now waiting for my prize money to be paid by direct transfer.  Sometimes it pays to gamble!  I’ll be down there again at 5.30 this afternoon to see if I can augment my winnings enough to pay for next year’s pitch fees!

And no… I don’t play Bingo when I’m home in Suffolk.  It’s all gravy, baby.