Once again, I find myself forging through another bout of wondering. If you remember in a blog post not so long ago, I was caught in the dilemma of archaic typewriters. This time I seem focused on things I did as a young adult, some good, some not so good, and some not so good, good. I do believe, my mind’s eye, ear, nose, and throat are pulling me toward the days I spent at the bowling alley.
At one time, I bowled on a league. Our team consisted of me, my girlfriend, her brother, and another gentlemen from her work. We accessed this league through her employer.
One night a week, we bowled three games with all the included teams placed by rank based on their weekly scores. We usually hovered somewhere around last place knowing that if we strove for mediocrity, there would be nowhere to go but up.
At this particular time in my life, I was known to diligently search for the bottom of a beer bottle. Of course, being a young man in my early 20’s, I was not opposed to saving a buck wherever possible.
Now, what could be better than knocking down a few cold brews while enjoying one’s favorite pass time? Therein lies the problem.
Dumb kid, who likes to drink but isn’t endowed with an overabundance of cash.
Bowling alley where the dumb kid bowls sells beer out of the dumb kid’s price range.
The beer that the Bowling alley sells is the brand sold in local convenience and grocery stores.
Dumb kid owns bowling ball and a bowling bag with enough space for ball and 6 bottles of said favorite beer.
Problem solved. All dumb kid has to do is purchase one beer at the beginning of the night, store empties in bowling ball bag, and walk softly to prevent clinking and/or breakage.