The air is heavy and stale
in the bingo hall before
the patrons get here.

My sunburn is shedding skin
like a lizard.  I scratch at it,
willing it to hurry.

The air conditioning doing its best
but even the blowing fans realize
this is a losing battle.

The money counter shuffles
its payout over and over, 
shredding the silence.

Sweat pools at the back of my neck
then stretches a long trickle
the length of my spine.

We open the doors to customers
and the real fun begins.