... to bowl AT OUR OWN RISK!!
I wondered why that warning was necessary, until the other lanes started filling up with rowdy, inexperienced young bowlers. They slugged down beers between turns, and it wasn't long before bowling bowls were flying every which way. As they got drunker, their delivery of each ball became more and more elaborate, more than once ending with the bowler on the floor. I'm surprised that the owners' insurance company didn't make helmets mandatory.
When we first checked in, the guy behind the counter gave me the nastiest pair of old, falling-apart bowling shoes ever. I must have wrinkled my nose as I picked one of them up between my index finger and thumb to inspect the awfulness. He took them back and gave me this spiffy pair:
Part of the challenge of bowling is finding a ball that's got a good combination of weight and finger-hole placement for one's hand. I found one that worked for me alright. Ken had more trouble. He started out with one that was way too heavy for him, so his bowling arm got tired quickly.
This gave me just enough of an advantage to win 2 of our 3 games. Although not by much.
Then we went here...
... for summa dis!
Mmmm. Nothin' like an 8,000 calorie dinner to cap off a bowling date. We should do this more often.
