Bunco. Drunko. Girls Night Out. Therapy.
Call it what you want, but Bunco -- an old-fashioned parlor game that involves nine dice, a bell, a silly trinket and lots of food and drink -- has become serious business for lots of women who want to have fun.
And as any Bunco buff will tell you, it's more than just a game. It's a chance to get together with friends to eat, drink, gab and have a good time.
"It's not your normal Girls Night Out, where you go to some bar or some restaurant. This is homey. You can be yourself," said Penny Duchesneau, of North Attleboro, who recently hosted her first Bunco party. ". . . It's a fun night out, relaxing and playing" with friends.
It's also absolutely mindless, notes Sheila Rinaldi, one of Duchesneau's Bunco buddies -- the perfect antidote after a stressful day of work and family life.
But it's exciting, too, Rinaldi noted. "It's fast. It's constantly moving. There's no downtime."
"It's like roulette when you're at the casino," Duchesneau agreed. But it's even better, because you're home, surrounded by friends.
THE GAME REQUIRES at least 12 players, who are split among three tables, then divided into teams. Each player takes turns tossing three dice in hopes of getting whatever number is being played that particular round.
Three of a kind of the specified number is a Bunco, which the player screams out; she is then rewarded by being allowed to hold the coveted Bunco toy (in Duchesneau's party, a stuffed doll). The dice continue to fly until someone from the lead table scores 21 points.
Then, the winners switch tables. The losers stay put. Team members change seats, so you never know whom you'll be partnered with next. Because it's a game of chance, you don't know until the end whether you'll walk away with a prize for the most wins, most losses, most Buncos or most Mini Buncos.
(Players generally contribute $5 toward the prize pot, and it's up to the group whether to provide cash prizes or small gifts.)
Though the game is fast-paced, it requires no skill and little concentration, unless you're the scorekeeper for the table. So there's plenty of time for yakking and laughing -- which are the keys to its popularity.
"The game is incidental," says Brigitte Corcoran of North Attleboro, who's been playing with pretty much the same group of friends for the past 11 years. "It's a chance for us to vent about our children, our husbands, our jobs. . . . It's better than talking to a shrink."
"This Bunco (group) has turned into a major friendship, basically," said Sherry Curtis, one of Corcoran's friends. ". . . We like each other's company. We want to get together."
And, notes Norma Smyka, another longtime member of that group, "It beats the hell out of a sewing circle."
THE ABILITY TO SOCIALIZE is what has made the game so popular -- especially in today's busy world, says Leslie Crouch, founder of the California-based World Bunco Association,
"You can sit down, visit with your friends, carry on a conversation and you don't have to really worry about doing any heavy-duty thinking at all," she said. ". . . It's just a game of luck. That's all it is."
That's also why it attracts so many fans, especially women, who are looking for the opportunity to get out on a regular basis, she said. She likens it to men's poker nights, which have long been sacrosanct.
Bunco has been around for generations, but it's been enjoying a resurgence in the last 10 years or so, Crouch said.
Her Web site, www.worldbunco.com, says the game actually dates back to Victorian England, when it was called 8-Dice Cloth. It was introduced in this country in the 1850s, when crooked gamblers would use variations of the game to swindle people out of their earnings.
Versions of Bunco, also known as Banco and Bunko, flourished through the turn of the century and beyond, giving rise to the gambling parlors that thrived during the Roaring '20s -- as well as the police raids by what came to be called Bunco Squads, according to the Web site.
The game's popularity waned for several decades, until it resurfaced in the 1980s -- primarily on the West Coast. It was especially popular among stay-at-home moms and women who worked outside the home, as a regular opportunity to get together with friends.
CROUCH, WHOSE GRANDMOTHER, now 93, used to play Bunco in Chicago in the 1930s, said she was introduced to the game eight years ago by a friend in her suburban California neighborhood. But she recalls being frustrated by the lack of information and equipment available.
So she formed the World Bunco Association to research the game and serve as the official "sanctioning body" to establish official rules (not that anyone needs "official" rules to play) and she produced a boxed version of the game, called It's Bunco Time!, which includes all the materials you need to play for $19.95 (though all you really need are nine dice, a bell and some paper for keeping score).
Crouch said the boxed version was an immediate success, and she peddled "tens of thousands" before she sold the rights to another manufacturer, Talicorp Corp. Lew Herndon, president of that company, said sales doubled last year alone and he's now marketing Bunco T-shirts and sweatshirts to cash in on the Bunco craze.
The Internet has also helped fuel interest, especially with Web sites such as www.worldbunco.com and another, www.buncogame.com, that includes everything from instructions on how to play to a catalog that sells Bunco gear ranging from colorful dice (up to $1 apiece) to cow bells ($4.25 to $5) and a year's worth of Bunco scorecards ($10).
These sites also provide a variety of links, including lists of Bunco groups around the country such as the Bonko Babes of West Boylston, Mass.; Bunko Crazy Ladies in Florida; Bunko G.R.I.T.S. (Girls Raised In The South) in Georgia, The Dicey Gals in North Carolina; and the Whine and Wine Ladies of Tennessee. The www.worldbunco.com site also lists Bunco connections for each state. Rhode Island, for instance, lists two women who've been playing in Narragansett and Warren for years, and two others, in East Greenwich and Seekonk, who are hoping to form Bunco groups.
But you don't need a boxed version of the game or a fancy group name in order to play. All you need are 12 people who want to have fun.
Indeed, the toughest part of the game may be finding a Bunco group with an opening. Sometimes, it's easier to just start your own.
THAT'S WHAT KAY HOLLEY of North Attleboro did.
Holley had never heard of Bunco before visiting family members in California last year. Her sister-in-law invited her to a game one night, explaining: "It's my girl's night out. And I'm not giving it up."
Holley had so much fun, she decided to create her own Bunco group. She invited several friends from the neighborhood, saying the first 11 people to respond would get to play. Only one person had even heard of the game before, but it didn't take long for everyone else to catch on.
The best part of the game was getting to visit with lots of people in one night, Holley said. The worst part was "the noise."
The women were laughing so hard that, even though they were in Holley's finished basement, her husband could hear them on the second floor. But then again, "that could be a best part," she said, because it's clear everyone had fun. "Everyone wanted to do it again."
And the second party, at Duchesneau's home, has spawned yet another, scheduled for next month at another neighbor's home. And Holley has mapped out other Bunco nights through the end of the year.
CORCORAN, ON THE OTHER HAND, played in a couple of different groups before she found a group that meshed -- and survived and thrived for the past 11 years. Most of these players knew each other because their children went to elementary school together, and the moms all worked with the parents association and as Cub Scout leaders and at other activities with their kids.
Their children have long since grown -- many of the players are now grandmothers -- but they still meet faithfully, once a month, for Bunco.
Corcoran and her friends take turns hosting the party, but unlike Holley's group, where everyone chips in for food, drink and prizes, whoever's hosting the monthly get-together provides all the food and drink, as well as the prizes.
They start with dinner at 7, which can be as formal as the roast pork tenderloin, pasta salad, arugla with apples and hummingbird cake for dessert that Corcoran prepared for the group last month, or as simple as takeout pizza. And there's always plenty to drink -- mostly Coronas and white Zinfandel, Merlot, rum and Coke. ("All of our kids know it as a drinking game," one woman said.)
They eat, talk, then get down to the business of playing Bunco.
As the little statue on Corcoran's shelf says, "Life is a game. Bunco is serious." (Though the "Bunco" part was doctored to read "Drunko.")
THEY'VE PLAYED FAITHFULLY over the years, every month except July, when too many families go away on vacation. Their September game is played at Connie Simas's house on Cape Cod, so that's become a girls weekend instead of just a girls night out. They also meet in December, but hold a Christmas party instead of a Bunco game. And they occasionally get together for other events as well, such as a day trip to New York City, a night out to see Mamma Mia in Providence, and gathering for family celebrations. "Connie's daughter's wedding was a Bunco party," Smyka recalled, laughing.
They've helped each other deal with the deaths of parents and siblings and the births of grandchildren -- including one who was dangerously premature. They've celebrated 40th and 50th birthdays.
They've done the Walk of Life, in honor of a friend and fellow player, Priscilla Champagne, who died three years ago of breast cancer. And they get involved in other fundraisers and other causes.
"We're not just fluff here," Smyka said.
But mostly, they have fun.
They recalled the time one of Simas's neighbors called the police on them, because they were so loud, and one of the women thought the police officer was actually a hired stripper, so she kept saying, "Cuff me! Cuff me!"
There was the time they pretended to solicit a teenage pizza delivery boy and the boy was so flustered that the women are convinced that he quit his job that night.
And then there was the real stripper, hired by Corcoran's husband in honor of her 50th birthday party two months ago. It's unclear how much Bunco they got to play that night, but the stripper was clearly the prize.
Mostly, Bunco has helped them share great memories -- and lots of laughs. That's what they love most about the game, they say. It goes way beyond Bunco.
"Hey, there's our group name," Corcoran said. "Beyond Bunco. That sums it up."
