Friday night done right

About seven years ago or so Green Girl was a HUGE fan of the TV show Ed. She'd decided to quit her teaching job, expecting baby #2 that fall, and accepted her destiny as homemaker. At least for a while.

Around this time, Mr. D came home and announced he'd signed them up for a couples bowling league that would run all fall and winter. What would be more traditional and campy than that? Every other Friday night, Mr. D and Green Girl would drive to a small bowling alley in a town on the outskirts of civilization and BOWL! Just like the characters in Green Girl's beloved Stuckeyville! It would get them out of the house for a date night with some regularity (when a couple pays $5 an hour for a babysitter, having no family, kith or kin in sight, date nights become an Unnecessary Luxury Item). Plus, Mr. D reasoned, a regular night out would keep Green Girl from plunging into the abyss of madness that would come from staying home all day, every day, in their new country home with no close neighbors. She'd be JUST LIKE Carol Vessey, even if she wasn't teaching high school English anymore.

The actual bowling alley in question--all 6 lanes.

That summer while trekking to the thrift shop with another load of useless household goods (for they were moving and moving means purging), Green Girl saw a display of bowling balls by the entrance of the thrift shop. She picked one up and fell in love with the way it fit her hand--the holes were wide enough for her stocky fingers and spaced close enough for the span of her hand's reach. Often if the holes were drilled wide enough in an alley ball, they were spaced so far apart that the ball was impossible to grasp. She felt the ball's heft in her arms and smiled. Not too heavy, not too light. In fact, this ball was just right. She turned it over in her hands and saw a name etched in the surface. Jan. Really, the perfect bowling name. It smacked of old school and simplicity, cigarettes and bright lipstick. Jan.

"How much?" Green Girl called across to the old man running the register.

"All the bowling balls are fifty cents. Bags are a buck."

She'd come to town to drop off goods, not to shop, so she carried neither wallet nor purse. Tearing back to her car, Green Girl scrabbled in the cupholders for spare change. A quarter, two dimes and a nickel later, she returned.

That fall after her brief maternity leave with Mr. B, Green Girl started bowling. She was overweight from the pregnancy and her self-esteem was in the gutter--her bowling ball followed suit. Green Girl and Jan broke 100 that year with consistency. They didn't set any Major Bowling Records, but they had a lot of laughs.

Sometimes Green Girl curses Jan, but mostly she's proud of her.

The following year Green Girl lost her baby fat, then gained another 50 pounds and had Mr. G. She adjusted her stance with her expanding waistline and adjusted again when her figure returned. Her average rose to 116, then 127. She inherited a pair of bowling shoes from another bowler and watched Mr. D purchase a couple new balls for himself. It gave her no small measure of pride when her fifty cent thrift shop ball could beat his $150 Hammer in a game. Sometimes Jan and Green Girl threw a mean game--with crazy scores like 167, 182 and 154!

Mr. D is a high-maintenance bowler. His shoes are also new. His average is in the 180's. He's also a natural athlete.

Tonight Green Girl and Jan will go bowling. Their average is nearing the 140 mark and their shame is genuine when they can't pick up a spare or leave a split. They and Mr. D have new bowling partners--a fun couple--the man sings a mean karaoke and the woman reads lots of books. Green Girl will complain about how cold Jan feels after sitting in Mr. D's trunk for two weeks. She'll slide on her bowling shoes (also wicked cold) and throw a couple practice balls. After three games, much laughter, and a couple of these:

Brewed in Wisconsin with a rich and hearty taste, Green Girl is conscious of her beer miles and gave up her beloved Newcastle Brown Ale.

she'll zip Jan back in her bowling bag for another two weeks.

Posted in: she's so lame she's (almost) ironically cool