Straight No Chaser

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bowling did happen, yes, and i did go, though i shouldn't have, because i can hardly stand up without tidal waves of pain. sit down was all i wanted to do the whole time we were there, thirteen of us in a crowded bowling alley at the crowdiest time of night for bowling. no chairs anywhere. not even a barstool with slashed vinyl and stuffing coming out. i thought we were there for fred's birthday, but fred wasn't there, so i guess not.

the awkwardness of our group sort of fluctuates, randomly. we were totally uncomfortable around one another freshman year, comically comfortable sophomore year, and now we are kind of weird again, shift. no one is sure where to sit or whom to touch, things like that. we had to split into two groups in order to fit onto the lanes, and that was a complicated adventure in itself, not concentrating all the commodities into one group. krystle and i had to be split up, as did od and marcha, and then everyone else sort of scrambled.

too much touching. ordinarily i don't mind being touched, even by sean whose touches are inappropriate when his girlfriend is right there, but i feel untouchable today. hummy and overstuffed. like no one should touch me or i might explode. plus i was having too much fun changing the names on the electronic scorecard. porn star names, then rapper names, then baby animals (od was "elephant calf" and sean was "lamb," which was funny to the drinkers). i bowled a terrible first game and a moderately shitty second. double digits both times, not that i expected any different. i checked my phone once every thirteen seconds, i think, for marcus. he hasn't called yet.

the people at the next lane over were ragingly high, which was distracting. and really trashy, and grotesquely naked. probably mid- to late thirties but looked much older because of all the blech, and the woman (shapeless torso, backless halter top, formless tattoo, graceless walk) kept drifting over to our side, touching our boys, flipping her extremely knotty blond hair in their faces. their black guy shuffled up and down to the end of the lane over and over, like he thought it was always his turn when it almost never was, and when it was, he kept going "fackkkkk," dropping the ball with his listless right hand, the fingers of his left shoved into his mouth.

worse, though, were the people who at two o'clock in the morning had their twin three-year-olds at the same alley, bored and tired and cranky, wandering from lane to lane in search of fit parents, probably. i just, it's why i don't like bowling in the middle of the night, and why i do. it reminds me of every mistake i could make with my life, and hopefully won't.

krystle bowled seven strikes in a row, inexplicably. (she usually loses.)

i might be getting too sleepy to be any good on the phone tonight. estee apologized in advance for waking me up tomorrow on her way out to church. i heard the unspoken admonition--if you were any kind of christian you'd be waking up at seven with me--and i ignored it, like i will every weekend this semester. it's one of the things she's going to have to learn about me, that and that i don't mean any harm by it.

it's so lonely, being the only person ever to raise an eyebrow at organized religion. i swear to god, nobody understands me or my unparalleled depth of feeling.