So, my friends invited me to be a substitute player in a Bunco game a couple of weekends ago. I'm still gleeful over the whole thing, having heard about these mysterious evenings for several months but having never been a part of one. Until now.
Believe me, it lived up to all the hype: Suburban women gathered around a table tossing dice. Gossip. Snacks. Lots of strongly mixed margaritas. More gossip. The occasional handful of M&Ms. Really, now that I know firsthand what goes on behind those quiet, white Colonial doors, I'd be hard pressed to come up with an entertainment idea for neighborhood moms that had this much potential for hipness.
The wonderful friend who issued the invitation has been part of this established, 12-member Bunco group for four years now. I hadn't thought about it before that night, but the changes that can take place in that amount of time are staggering. Of the original members (formed in my friend's subdivision, mostly on my friend's street), several have moved to other cities, a couple have divorced or separated from their spouses, a bunch of them have had a new baby or two, many have changed jobs and, interestingly, some of them don't seem all that crazy about each other anymore. Yet they still get together once a month to play.
When my friends first told me about The Bunco Experience, they insisted that I'd love it. That it'd give me lots to write about. That I shouldn't miss out on giving it a try. I was initially dubious. I mean, suburban women playing some kind of bizarre drinking game while talking about their husbands and kids for, like, four straight hours...could this really be fun?
Why, yes, it could and it was.
Wildly so, although I have no intention of going into the more embarrassing personal details here, and no one better post a picture of me wearing that hat... But already I can't wait to do it again. And soon, I hope. Very soon.
Random thoughts about book reviews ...
9 hours ago