Page 20 of Lovetown, USA
I cracked open the Visitor’s Guide this morning and saw that they were having Singles Bingo tonight. I’m only going for research purposes, but in the spirit of keeping an open mind for Nadia, I dressed up for it. Black wrap dress, plunging neckline, red strappy sandals, and a red lip to match.
As if she read my mind, Tamika says, “Looking that fly, you’ll be engaged by the end of the month.”
I let that hang in the air as I watch the trees whiz by the window. Looking at the street we’re on from inside the car, you’d almost think it was normal around here.
And then you step inside the Lovetown Multipurpose Hall for Singles Bingo Night and you’re reminded how fucking warped this city is.
I step inside and immediately overdose on the tacky decor. It’s chock full of whatever was leftover from Valentine’s Day at the local CVS. Heart-shaped balloons, cupid cutouts, pink garland and even a photo booth withSwipe Righton the sign.
A nice volunteer hands me a bingo packet. Inside are four cards, three drink tickets, and a baggie full of heart candies as markers.
Gag.
At least there’s a bar.
I grab a seat, and at least I’m getting glances this time. I settle in, adjust my cleavage, then signal to the guy in the novelty tux so I can go ahead and start drinking.
The crowd is mixed, just like Mayor Daphne said about the town. The ratio of men to women is about equal, too. I’ll give them their tens for that alone.
You damn sure never see that in Atlanta.
Best of all, no rings glinting on fingers. Everybody here is on the prowl. The stakes are low, and the hopes are high. Not mine, but everyone else’s. You can feel it in the air.
Tuxedo man brings me my martini.
The hum of chatter dies down as a silver-haired doll of a black woman makes her way to the stage. She’s wearing a pink dress and rhinestone heart spectacles, grinning adorably as she thunders into the mic. “Good evening! As always, I’m your host, Miss Milly. Are y’all ready to play?”
The crowd, minus me, cheers wildly.
“And remember, the jackpot islove!”
Everyone else in the room chimed in on the word love, and I resist the urge to projectile vomit. This is insane. Truly.
“Eyes down, hearts open!” she finishes, and then the game begins.
To my utter shock, I don’t hate it. Numbers and letters. Competition. Buzz sets in. More numbers and letters. By the time I get to the bottom of my martini, I’m yelling out, “B-14!” like the rent is due.
I signal for another, my eyes locking on a slightly older gentleman a few tables over. He’s not bad looking at all. Not at all.
But I have a game to win.
A different man wins the first card. We all cheer because we’re all tipsy at this point. Second card, second drink, and mama’s on a roll.
“G-54!”
I scramble to get a heart candy out of the baggy, setting it on top of my card with a gleeful giggle. I’m almost there.
Then I see him.
Dr. Handsome.
He strolls in looking like money in dark blue jeans and a button down with the sleeves rolled up. His forearms alone are enough to melt my panties, but his smile—at Miss Milly—makes me shiver. It feels like the room tilts a few degrees.
He spots me.
I greet him with a smile over my glass, then glue my eyes back to my card before I get myself into trouble.
“N-31!”
