That's right. For the first time since I broke my pinkie (last March), I went bowling. And, it's the first time in a new lane -- I've been to about four bowling alleys in my life -- no kidding -- well, if we're talking 10 pin, not candlepin. But I hauled out my bowling shirt, dusted off Evan (my bowling ball -- the name was already printed on it when I bought it at the Goodwill for $8), and put on my wristbands (I don't know why, but I wear wristbands when I roll).
As I was at the bowling alley, I realized that although I am overshadowed by the hipsters in Portland, I am a hipster anywhere else. My combination of ironic gear and in-jokes it just too much for average people. My fellow English teachers didn't really know what to do with me. They did get a kick out of my shirt, though.
Of course, I lost the last game (I rolled a 76). I was penultimate in the 2nd game (I rolled an 85). And I tied for penultimate in the 3rd game -- but I broke 100, rolling a 102.
There was league bowling going on next to us. I tried to explain to them about the guy with the string tied to his foot and his wrist... but I just can't. I guess you had to be there. (Good enough for you, Hollis?)
Oh, and there was this one frame? The 6th, I think. We all bowled strikes. (It was my third mark of the night -- I am not ao good bowler). So, we're getting shirts made up and calling ourselves the Cinco Equis.
Oh, but no one sang Sweet Caroline to me when I got a strike or a spare. That was very sad.
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1 comment:
"...(I don't know why, but I wear wristbands when I roll)..."
That's just how you roll.
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