novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- bowled over brunch and bowl themed sundays are perhaps better left in theory. especially if the owner of the bowling alley nods his head yes while blurting out a resolute NO to requests for more hash browns. why are hash browns to be doled out to your few paying customers in such small quantities? maybe fried starches aren't condusive to throwing turkeys? he turned back to the nascar race as we fed quarters into the juke box, noticing that most songs were dated pre-1992. welcome to the jungle, would you like your eggs sunny-side up? it is odd to eat breakfast in a bowling alley, axl rose echoing through the cavernous, dim room. it was us and a few pony-tailed stragglers. they kept clinking their beer bottles against each other and pushing their hips out when they laughed. as if for emphasis. as if they were stage actors. from the gut. after one game i remembered my form, remembered our east bay bowling league (RIP the cakes, jenny and david, i think of you fondly even though i can't think where i put my bowling shoes) and recalled how i once took bowling class for college credit. see, that is how i know about form. follow through. following the little arrows painted on the wooden lanes. we marvelled at the marbled balls, the tan breakfast brunch (literally all of it was some shade of tan. or beige.) and the annoying digital interludes that would flash on-screen according to your performance. gutter ball? a sad pin waddles across the screen, crying. and then giant balloon letters pop up and mock you. when i was living in portland mg took me on a pseudo-date to the best bowling alley ever. none of that digital hooey. (the only example of digital prowess actually enhancing the bowling experience that i can think of would be the speed monitoring. g got sick of trying to knock down pins and kept bowling faster and faster, trying to clock out at 20 MPH.) but that alley burned down. i remembered this as i finally broke a hundred at the end of our third game. that alley burned down and that pseudo-date turned out to be a bit of a gutterball, if you ask me. but i'm not really keeping score. not anymore. 9:55 pm - 08.22.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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