In Which I Go Bowling

As if the events of Wednesday and Thursday nights were not sufficient for any one person, I went out for drinks and dinner, bowling and then more drinks on Friday night with my friends from the Bag Manufacturers and, later, another friend and Devoted Reader from the bookstore.

After dinner and a Paisley Martini at Michael's, Matt, Mike, Teresa, Darcy and myself went over to the bowling alley at the end of town. I suspect most bowling alleys are like this one: ten or twelve lanes, lots of vinyl and molded plastic seating, a lunch/dinner counter where a wide variety of greasey food was available and a lot of middling beer, too. The computerized score keeping and the amusing animated graphics were the only contemporary thing in the place. It was, though, remarkably clean and smoke-free. We collected our shoes and Darcy's were clearly the best of them all: vividly bright neon pink and yellow with stitching that lit up when the black light system was turned on. Mine came in second: two-toned green and red in a bowling jacket satin finish. Next came the selection of bowling balls. Darcy selected a bright red ball, Teresa a mixed green and black ball, Matt a solid black ball, Mike a black ball with red and white flecks and I selected a black ball with red swirled over it. With our names input to the system, we began to bowl.

It quickly became apparent that Mike and Teresa were the best bowlers among us. Matt was fairly bad, but then he didn't care. I had a solid delivery but was hampered by putting twist on the ball which inevitably sent the ball sheering off left or right and into the gutter. Darcy had a thoroughly impressive non-chalant technique which consisted of her strolling up to the line and tossing the ball up and over it. It rolled fairly solidly down the center of the lane knocking over a number of pins. Her Zen technique kept her solidly in the middle of the scores, with Mike and Teresa battling it out for first and second place, while Matt and I slugged it out for the last two slots. It was actually rather fun and I wouldn't mind going again, especially if I can correct my slice and keep the ball in the center of the lane.

I should mention the beer in greater detail. When we arrived, the primary issue of importance was the beer. Matt got the last stout and Mike and I settled for the last two Alaskan ambers which were not entirely bad. I've had better, but these were not bad. Darcy was drinking something called Zima which was clear. I have no idea what it was. For our next round of bowling and beer, we had Blue Moose (or something like that) which was really abysmal. No taste, no texture, no nothing. They were shockingly bad, but at the same time you wanted another one.

Coming up ten o'clock, Matt and I left the bowling alley and headed back to Michael's for the ten to midnight happy hour to meet up with Holly. We discovered her at the circular table probably wondering if she'd been stood up. A bit later then rest of the gang arrived and we crowded around the circular table listening to some records: Billy Joel, Michael Jackson, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez. It was a mixed bag. I had a scotch ale which was very, very good. There was a lot of conversation going on and Teresa and I attempted a game of Perquacky, but we were fading away. Teresa and Darcy stepped outside for a smoke and I joined them for some fresh air. When we came back, Matt was in full swing and we more or less sat letting him go on and on. We filterd out one by one: Teresa and Darcy, Mike and then, finally, Holly, Matt and myself.

I've drunk way too much and had way too little sleep this week. Its good to know one's limits and I can bounce back to something along the lines of getting by, but I can't do all that again. Reading the previous post about my Wednesday night exploits, Holly recommended silymarin, milk thistle powder in capsules, which help the liver and can alleviate the effects of alcohol consumption. I took two silymarin capsules upon arriving home and those probably prevented me from feeling an awful lot worse than I ended up feeling. I felt low and rather poisonous, to be honest.