Moose Productions Blog

It was cold, the harsh wind of the bowery whipping south and shredding every storefront awning in its path. On this particular night, the bar was buzzing. Tens of young well dressed patrons crowded into the OV and bought bingo scorecards for $2 each. The reason for the excitement was the recent Tsunami. A portion (20%) of every bingo pot would go toward Tsunami relief. As Tom walked in, he was greeted warmly by the owner of the bar, Wilma, a sturdy Vietnamese woman in her early 50’s. Tom is practically family at the OV in large part because he stops by every night for at least one rum and coke. Wilma often gives him food for free and always makes sure that he gets home safe on nights whe he’s had a few too many. Every Tuesday, Tom looks forward to Bingo, each week convinced that he will be a winnner.

At 61 years old, Tom looks 75. His face is worn with deep wrinkles and a nose that appears to have been broken a few times. He wears a black trucker jacket and a hat that says “U.S. Navy Veteran.” His jeans are stained with paint from a long day doing maintenance for the hotel. He takes a table in the middle of the bar. On one side of him is a table of well dressed girls in their mid 20’s, and as I eavesdrop on their conversations, more often than not I feel like I am listening to the script of Sex in the City read aloud. Behind Tom sits a well dressed young Cuban man with a pink button down shirt and a striped vest.

Just before bingo begins, Tom tells me that he’s feeling lucky. As the numbers are shouted out, the jubilant crowd reacts with cheers if their number is called, and shouts of “new caller” if their number is not called. It is a good vibe in the place, everyone generally enjoying each other’s company glad to be inside and away from the frigid wind outside. Through the first couple of cards, Tom doesn’t even come close to getting bingo. As someone wins, shrieks of glee can be heard following the customary shout of “Bingo!” while everyone else in the room moans and hopes for better luck on the next card. Following one of the games, Tom yells “Smoke Break,” and we go outside. Outside, the conversation eventually shifts to the change on the Bowery. Tom explains how the real estate developers are buying up all the property so as to convert them into high rises. “Where do all these millionaires come from?” he asks.

Back inside, Tom continues to have bad luck on the bingo cards, so he decides to stop playing four cards, and switch to two. A decision that any oddsmaker would tell you is a bad one because it decreases your opportunity by half. “I never win when I play four cards,” he said, “I always do better with one or two. During one of the games, Tom’s card actually looked good. Tom has had many many drinks by this point so I was concerned that he might not realize if one of his numbers was called. Wilma’s son, Chris, also helped Tom with the scorecard. Amazingly, with the camera rolling, Tom won as B10 was called. He shouted “Bingo!” What happened next was truly extraordinary. Tom, at this point in the year, was totally broke. Scraping by to pay for his food and his alcohol on the very small wages he earned working for the White House. And here, at the Orange Valve he wins a bingo pot of $95. He needed every last penny of that money. But instead, he took his winnings and donated them to Tsunami relief. I was amazed. Even if it was in part a show for the camera, I don’t care. He had no money, and he gave it all to the relief fund. Remarkable.

After winning, Tom was thrilled. He talked through the night with anyone who would sit by him. He stayed until the end of Bingo, until way after the crowd was gone. He must have had 8 jello shots and 7 rum and cokes. For a man of his size and age, that is truly a lot. He was staggering when he walked and slurring as he spoke. It was tough to watch. Over the past few months, I have gotten to know Tom and to like him. In front of me, I could see that he just didn’t know when to stop drinking, when to go home. I walked him back to the White House, sometimes helping him from stumbling to the ground.