At last, the moment came. A woman switched on the machine and the colorful balls began floating around inside the old glass box. About 45 people in the room braced in anticipation, ink blotters ready for the number that would eventually float to the top of the dispenser and be called out.

“B-7,” said Bingo Master Dawn Ritts into the microphone. “When bees die they go to bees heaven. B-7.”

I hadn't played bingo since fifth grade. In those days, we marked every number called out with a red, plastic chip. Sometimes my attention span was so short I didn't even realize I had a “bingo” until some other kid called out first. Then I'd look and see I had two bingos two turns ago. So much for that Tootsie Roll prize.

I found the game no less complicated last week at Gypsum Town Hall. There was true … um, strategy … and I had to learn quickly by looking around the room and taking tips from bingo veterans at my table.

For example, it's not smart to look for “B-7” in the “I” column. Second, what is the game? If one is playing “The Pirate Game,” which is an X pattern, the only squares a player should pay attention to in the B and O columns are the very top and bottom ones. I'd started blotting every square called, out of my elementary school habit.

“What are you doing?! You gonna mark everything?” said the friendly woman next to me, who also made no secret of her love for Brett Favre. She had a point, about the bingo, I mean. I flushed a little. Duh.

While my logic was catching up with the strategy,, I nearly missed the next number. Jeez — this was complicated!

The makings of a cheeseball

Round and round went the balls. Ritts was obviously having a good time subjecting her captive audience to her arsenal of puns.

“By the way, I have a dorky joke for every bingo number,” she warned.

Ritts, Gypsum's special projects coordinator, is a big reason bingo started in the town back in March 2008. Her bingo roots go back to 2001.

Her first experience as a “bingo caller” or “bingo master” came while working on a Royal Caribbean cruise ship from 2001 to 2005. That's also where she “learned the craft of the corny joke.”

“Our goal was to be cheeseball enough to make our friends laugh,” she said, adding that she was nervous the first time she tried it.

Jumping through hoops

After coming to Gypsum, she had the idea to start a bingo night there, thinking it would be simple. That was around August 2007.

A cruise ship is not subject to the same gambling rules that Colorado is. Ritts discovered she needed to become certified by the secretary of state, among other things.

First, she had to join the Eagle Valley High School Booster Club and be a member for six months. Then she went to Denver and took an all-day class that ended with a test.

“The class was really serious, so it was kind of funny,” Ritts said. “Everyone had these somber faces and we were talking about bingo — it kind of made bingo a little bit scary.”

Ritts said there were about 20 people in her class and such classes are offered once a month at various locations around the state. It was about $20 to enroll in the class.

Now that Ritts and the EVHS Booster Club are certified, they submit quarterly reports to the state.

“If you're doing what you're supposed to be doing, it's not hard,” Ritts said. “The measures are there to protect people from being scammed.”

Apparently bingo scamming wasn't that uncommon before the state stepped into the matter. However, Ritts said the state only requires that 15 percent of the proceeds go back to the participants as winnings. That might seem like a scam to some people, which is why the booster club splits the proceeds 50/50, Ritts said. The town of Gypsum has thrown in some schwag, too, as was the case when I played.

“It's more fun that way,” she said. “It sucks if you pay $15 to play and win a $10 hat.”

On Jan. 27, winners at the town hall collected about $400. One lucky man — David Wise, of Gypsum — won three times in a row and it was his first night playing there. As for the booster club, it took home a little more than what was doled out, but I'll get to that later.

It helps the school

The president of the booster club, George Hudspeth, said that compared to the club's other income sources, bingo brings in as much, or more, as the concession stands at EVHS athletic events. About the only fund-raiser that's bigger for the club is its summer golf tournament.

“We're very grateful to the town,” Hudspeth said. “The town bought the ball machine and the supplies and donated the space … Without support from the community this wouldn't run. Without support from the town this wouldn't run and it really helps out the school.”

Hudspeth said Ritts approached the club with the idea. She needed the club as an umbrella. Now, her exclusive job with the group is bingo master. So, to clarify, she is not working as a town employee when she's at the front of the room acting dorky with a mic in her hand.

Goofy groove

Ritts said her love of puns and goofiness annoys some people, including her husband.

“My sarcasm is funny to me but not to him,” she said. “He puts up with it because he loves me but there are times, I think, that I test that bond.”

It seems good-natured enough. She kids about how her husband will really leave her this time if she keeps plowing through her pirate jokes as she reads out more numbered balls. However, I would guess most Gypsum bingo-ers consider her an asset to the once-a-month gatherings. Then again, we don't have to live with her.

Nonetheless, I had expected the bingo-hall stereotype of the silent room and depressed, unflinching faces listening to each lone number called in monotone as if announcing every second peeled away from a slow death. Ritts' antics filled the room with energy.

It's not just the silly humor. Ritts also invents new patterns to play. That night, the novel game was a “field goal,” inspired by the Saints' overtime field-goal victory a couple days earlier. To call “bingo,” the winner had to have the shape of the post and uprights on her card.

The reason for changing game patterns is more than visuals. Some patterns make for quick games while others will go much longer.

Sometimes that means the children get bored. Though they can play bingo with the adults, Ritts also sets up a table with crafts to entertain them when they lose interest.

Kids can play

There is a technicality for allowing the young ones to game.

“Kids can play as long as an adult pays for their entry — kids can't purchase cards,” Ritts said. “Once this 9-year-old girl won the jackpot and I asked her if she was going to share her money with her dad and she said, ‘No, this is my money!'”

Eyes on the prize

Of course, I hoped to win the jackpot, which was something like $160 plus a town of Gypsum Koozie. I'd been skunked all night, not coming close to a win. Now was different, though. All I needed was one space: I-23. I yelled out what I needed in hopes of good luck. Ritts pulled the fateful ball …

“I … twenty …”

That was it?! I-20? I was so close and so dang far.

“Bingo!” cried Gypsum's finance director, Mark Silverthorn, who was sitting immediately across from me at the table.

Indeed, it was a win. The official — Andria Hudspeth (described by her booster club associate, Mari Renzelman, as the “Vanna White of Bingo”) — confirmed it as a legit bingo. Unlike the 9-year-old girl, however, Silverthorn donated his winnings to the club.

The night had come to a conclusion, but still I wondered about something else. Could Ritts spit those cheesy jokes on command?

She laughs.

“I can't really bust ‘em out unless I'm pullin' balls out of the machine,” she said.

How often do you hear “bust” and “balls” in the same sentence when it's referring to something other than the usual context? A person might just have to go to bingo in Gypsum to find out. The next chance comes at 6:30 p.m. Wednesday, Feb. 24, at Gypsum Town Hall.