(Photo by Lindsay Schallon/StyleBistro) This is what $1,250 looks like in dolla dolla bills, ya'll
I won money yesterday. I won a lot of money yesterday. I won $1,250 (!!!) yesterday.
Clearly it still hasn't sunk in. But it happened.
Hot off the bus from our three-hour drive from New York City to Atlantic City, Team StyleBistro hit up a buffet (what else) and headed over to our first destination, Revel, AC's newest casino hotel, for Binglo. What's Binglo, you ask? It's Bingo—but glow in the dark. (Get it? Binglo?)
After registering for a player's card—a big deal, you guys, for a girl who a) has been to a casino only four times in her life despite having grown up next one of the biggest "boats" (as we call them) in Missouri and b) doesn't even own a credit card—we were handed a yellow crayon (sorry, "Lazer Lemon") and five sheets of Bingo squares.
These games are intense, you guys. And not just because of the competition. (Although, trust, that was stiff, more on that to come.) There was an announcer and a DJ—both of whom wore matching head-to-toe white suits—flashing lights, and TVs playing old-school music videos, like Michael Jackson circa 1979.
Oh, and terrifically bad puns—you know how "11" is once in Spanish, so "B-11" then was called as, yes, Beyonce. Followed by (cue DJ) a chorus of "Single Ladies: Put a Ring On It." Gotta love bad puns.
Also, "Name That Tune" competitions and Harlem Shake dance offs went down in between games. Those poor, poor Bingo players, look at them shaking...
Okay, back to the games. There were five of them, each with different prizes. Regular Bingo for $250 slot credits, Four Corners Bingo for $500 slot credits, Double Bingo (two Bingos on one square) for $750 slot credits, X Bingo (make an X on the board) for $1,000 slot credits and—the grand finale game—Blackout Bingo (the entire square) for $2,500 in cash.
Did I mention you play six game boards at once?
We swept through the first four games with no luck. At one point, I was marking calls so feriously, I, uh, broke my crayon. Until the last game—Blackout Bingo—suddenly out of nowhere, I had one call remaining: B-2.
Me, to our table: "You guys, look! I only have one more! B..."
Announcer: "...2. B-2."
Me, 2-second-long internal dialogue: My card is full. OMG. I have a Bingo. I have a Bingo. Wait? What if I'm an idiot and I totally marked off the wrong numbers? No, no. There's no way. Lindsay, you're a very accurate Bingo player. But, Lindsay? Are you sure? You're really tired from this trip today. Maybe you're actually dreaming this whole thing.
Danica, pounding the table: "Lindsay, shout Bingo!"
Me, staring. Dead pan: ......
Danica: LINDSAY, SAY BINGO!
Me, finally, screaming: OMG. OMG. BIIIIIINGO! BINGO!
In all the commotion and emotion—a mixture somewhere between shock and what I imagine ecstasy must feel like—I didn't realize someone else had Bingo, too. So my $2,500 was cut into $1,250.
ONE-THOUSAND TWO-HUNDRED FIFTY DOLLARS. Yeah, I'm okay with that.
You don't really know what to do when someone hands you this many Benjamins in stack, so... I put it in my bra. (You want that much cash on you, know what I mean?) And then I was weirdly aware of my left boob for the entire rest of the night. Until I got back to my hotel, posted a bragging rights photo on Facebook, and received an upwards of 50+ Likes from ex-boyfriends and old middle school friends. People like money, I guess.
Is it weird that I totally want to frame this?
Stay tuned for more Atlantic City adventures this week, right here!