This may shock some of you because clearly Im a natural born athlete but I despise bowling. Its so......Roseanne. And with rug rats in tow, its even less appealing. However, after my early morning boob smooshing (see previous post), I decided a party was in order. What better way to celebrate healthy boobs than to participate in a decades old tradition of sticking your hands into germ infested holes and wearing someone elses fungus laden sneakers? So we proceed on our adventure and are greeted by what is possibly the second most miserable man on Earth (close behind the man whose DNA I share). He icily informs us that we MUST purchase one game prior to using our coupons because I gotta make some money ya know. Based on his professional demeanor, I can only assume this proprietor has graduated from the top of the Customer Service Excellence class. We venture over to our new temporary home, otherwise known Lane 9, and find an antiquated machine that is undoubtedly where the Commodore 64 went to die. After 10 minutes of cursing at this dinosaur (the machine, not the business owner) I finally succumb and ask the clean cut attractive man (aka Lane 10) beside me if he can assist. He happily obliges and is very sympathetic to my plight saying, These machines are ancient. They need replaced. To which I say rather dryly, Yeah well that miserable old jackass at the counter isnt about to sink a dime into this dump. Lane 10 responds: Who? That guy? (Points to miserable old jackass). Thats my dad.
Posted on: Tue, 28 Jan 2014 19:59:25 +0000
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