Fifty-Three

I was the MC for a BINGO event the other night at a neighborhood bar for a fundraiser (I don't want to brag, but if BINGO MC was a profession I would own that job!).  I made so many ridiculous comments as I called out the numbers; for example, I might have said, "I-24.  I am not 24, but if you are there is a good chance I will hit on you tonight."  I also made way too many "ball" references; maybe people should not let me hold a mic for two hours.  At some point in the evening I requested someone to write a haiku about BINGO, and this is what I was given to read to everyone:

Gently grasping balls

Chosen blindly in a bar

She holds good fortune.

As I was packing everything up, Fifty-three walked over to tell me that I did a great job and that while he did not play any of the games, he wanted to donate some money to our cause.  I told him for that I would give him a personalized BINGO card with the haiku written down for him.  Then as we were chatting I told him I was going to write down my name and number, too.  I added, "But now I'm not writing down the haiku because that just seems weird for my name and number to be next to that poem."  In the meantime, one of my friends who had been drinking thought she would be a helpful wingwoman by adding, "She's been handling balls all night, so she has a lot of practice."  My face got a little red as I awkwardly laughed and handed him the card.  As he took it and said thanks he added, "I'm going to walk away and take a shot now."  I don't think I'll be hearing from him.