The monthly Gay Bingo offers a raunchy good time to players of all stripes, while raising money for AIDS-related causes.

01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, June 12, 2005

BY DANIEL BARBARISI
Journal Staff Writer

CRANSTON -- Somewhere in between the sequined drag queens belting out show tunes, the shirtless beefcakes flexing in the aisles, and the entire cast of The Wizard of Oz handing out cards, it becomes clear that Gay Bingo has almost nothing to do with bingo.

A 6-foot-7 drag queen stomps through the rows of cafeteria benches and up to the stage. Preening in a silver dress, in front of a giant head of fashion maven Martha Stewart, she welcomes the biggest Gay Bingo crowd ever to Cranston's Riviera Bingo Hall.

"We told you it wasn't your grandmother's bingo -- and we weren't kidding. It's going to be filthy all night long," shrieks Kitty Litter, née Stephen Hartley.

"Are there any children in the house tonight under the age of 16?" she shouts out, scanning the crowd of 700. "No? Good. Because my next song is really dirty."

The crowd goes wild in anticipation. Gay men and women make up much of the audience, but many come with "straighties" in tow. And behind them are several packs of straight older women, there for the bingo, and even large groups of straight first-timers -- virgins, the regulars call them -- attending as part of several outings.

It's part stage show, part auction and fundraiser, part singles bar, and all outrageous.

Gay Bingo is peaking in its sixth season. The event runs from September to May, once a month, to raise money for AIDS-related charities. Organized by AIDS Project Rhode Island, the final bingo of the season last month raised roughly $12,000, bringing the annual total to more than $65,000.

Christopher Butler is the executive director of the project, and a local creator of Gay Bingo. He spent much of the night running around dressed as either Pope John Paul II or the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.

"It's always been this kind of crazy madness," Butler said.

In 1999, Butler was looking for a new way to raise money, when he heard through the grapevine about a group of drag queens in Philadelphia who ran a bingo game for charity. He copied the event almost exactly.

"The idea has always been to make it as unfriendly to real bingo people as possible It's not about bingo. It's about the show," he said, as three shirtless men in camouflage pants walked by, flexing for the crowd.

WITH THE CONSTANT barrage on the senses, it's hard to keep one's eyes on the bingo board. Here, people-watching has been elevated to a high art -- everywhere you look, there are groups of bikers in leather, drag queens in evening gowns, and on The Wizard of Oz theme night, attendees dressed as all the characters of the famous movie.

Rich Medeiros of Fall River and his partner, Stephen Flaherty of Norton, Mass., stand out in button-down shirts and slacks. The two are Gay Bingo first-timers, and seemed a little lost applying the dots to their cards with their "daubers" as the games became more complex.

"Sixty-four? Do I have that?" Medeiros said, as he scanned his six-box sheet.

"There, under O. Doesn't matter. We're still not going to win," Flaherty said, pointing him at the right spot.

Winning, of course, was irrelevant -- the pair were excited that they'd found a new place to hang out. "It's a nice, mixed crowd -- very diverse," Flaherty said. "We're definitely going to have to come again."

Others, who don't come with partners, come looking to meet one. David Liddle spent months glancing up from his bingo card at an attractive man who sat several tables away.

Soon, a mutual friend set them up for coffee. The two are still together, and they try not to miss a month.

"It's a great sense of community. It's not about gender, age or anything," Liddle said. And certainly, it's not about the bingo. "I wouldn't play bingo anyplace else. It's a stupid game."

KITTY LITTER quiets the crowd between games. It's time for a special treat -- Miss Sabrina Blaze, a drag queen in a monstrous blond wig and a rainbow-colored dress, grabs a wireless microphone and starts to stroll through the crowd. What's coming next almost seems too obvious -- The Wizard of Oz night at Gay Bingo would be incomplete without a Judy Garland tribute.

"Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high," Blaze -- actually Wayne Alan Hawkins -- croons.

Several tables away, a group of eight women laughs as Blaze finishes shaking the rafters, eager to get the next game started. They are serious players, veterans of monthly games at Foxwoods Resort Casino -- the kind of zero-talking, nerve-racking, dauber-to-the-grindstone bingo marathons that are popular with legions of grandparents nationwide.

The group, ranging in age from 40s to 80s, is making its second appearance at Gay Bingo. The women came nervously last month, because one of them works with Hartley -- Kitty Litter -- in his day job at Lifespan. They were hooked.

"I just thought it was a riot. A lot of fun," said Carolyn Sanita, of Cranston.

Sanita said this type of thing would drive most "real" bingo players nuts -- the pace, the show aspect and, well, the overt gay themes.

"If you're going to come here and take it seriously, don't come," she said.

It was too much for one friend of hers, who refused to attend.

"She didn't want to deal with it," Sanita said. "It's all in fun. You have to have an open mind."

FOR SEVERAL years, the crowds were very small -- about 150 people. But in the past year, the organizers have cranked things up a bit. The raunchy and always-excessive Ms. Litter has livened things up, regular attendees said.

They're getting bigger and bigger prizes, as well. Prizes for most games are $100, but they do have theme prize specials (Win Dorothy's ruby red slippers! $15 value!) and bigger pots -- like the $500 jackpot sponsored by Team One Mortgage and Rescom Realty.

The word is spreading. In the last few months, attendance has been climbing, forcing them to open the downstairs area of the hall and pipe in audio for the overflow crowd, and rese

rvations are now required. Organizers of local gay events use it as a clearinghouse to promote other activities for the gay community.

And in perhaps the ultimate compliment, a Gay Bingo event will start in Boston in September.

There is a credo, as well, a pledge of allegiance to Gay Bingo that all must repeat before the playing can begin. It's a joke, like all the rest of it, but one with a heart that would make the Tin Man proud -- a reminder that behind the stilettos, and the singing, and the sequins, is a purpose.

"I do solemnly swear that I will uphold the traditions and beliefs of Gay Bingo," 39 tables' worth of players repeat in unison.

"And although Gay Bingo is nothing but a stupid game, I will come back every month until we find a cure for this dreaded disease."