I went to a bunko party tonight. Bunko’s a mindless dice game that seems to be all the rage among the suburban-mom set. I was invited to join two bunko clubs since getting sober but passed because they’re mainly an excuse to drink wine. Liv, however, was hosting her bunko club and asked me to play.
“I’m setting up an extra table for my friends,” she said. “Come. It’ll be fun. You could get on our sub list if you like it. I asked Kelly and Wendy and they’re coming.”
I arrived early. Liv had asked Wendy, Kelly, and me to come before everyone else and we stood in the kitchen eating appetizers watching the regulars file in.
“That’s Nutty Nancy,” Wendy whispered out the side of her mouth. “She’s the most offensive woman in town. Talk to her for more than a minute and she’ll piss you off. She can’t help herself. She tried to get into my bunko group but was blackballed.”
Liv’s bunko club was formed by Nutty Nancy after she failed to get into everybody else’s club.
Someone ding, ding, dinged a teacher’s desk bell and Nutty Nancy and Androgynous Pat ordered everyone to sit down. Wendy and I sat at a card table with two other women and we took turns shaking a cup full of dice trying to roll ones, then twos, then threes, and so on, making tally marks for every die that came up right. When the bell rang again, we tallied our marks. Based on our scores, we rotated to new seats and new tables.
It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. If I were still drinking, I’d join the next bunko club that wanted me. But I’m in no position to host a house full of drunk bunko broads.