chicagodads

Just yesterday I was involved in a sprawling game of bowling. A game, by the way, that has yet to complete the bloody rite-of-passage to become a sport. A game played in disco clothes (according to the reliable docu Kingpin). A game that you have to play half-drunk.

A game that I fully suck at.

Remember Balki  Bartakamus? I wish I could play like him. I’m more like the pampered child without the bumper buffers; my trajectory is like a careening drunk without the comfort of a bar stool to fall from. I’m sadder than a 3-D Droopy, especially if he was done by the same guys who did Underdog and if he were voiced during Bill Murray’s suicide watch (aka, post-season Cubs).

But that should be alright right? After all, this two-hour event is a little mixer from my church. I was paired w/ four other people on my team, only one of whom I knew, another whom I had seen occasionally. One who I’ve never seen. Now was not the time, in a sport where I score fewer points than one could reasonably expect a child to score in put-put golf, to concentrate on how much I sucked - especially since I couldn’t afford to buy drinks (come to think of it, maybe i should’ve just snuck one in). But I did it anyway.

To be continued after I get some sleep. Peace, y’all…

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