Welcome to Tinsel Town

Bowling

I still remember the first time I crossed the street to the bowling alley.  The blur of the car lights as they raced by me, unaware of all the minutes in their lives they have wasted in that car. 

I had wasted mine in the bowling alley.  But I hadn't really wasted them, I had traded them for sweet smiles and memories.  I waved to the people behind the desk and they pointed to the back.  That's where my father was.  Everybody knew Officer Delaney, badge no.67909.

And this was the kind of place where you walked into the bowling alley and everyone said hi. 

The older people had their engraved balls and bags while my brother and I still chose the glow in the dark orange ones off the racks.  My younger brother was too small to carry it and my elder offered slightly annoyed.  He too had a ball with his name on it and an especially bright blue bag that just screamed "be jealous."  I threw my ball with just enough speed to reach the pins as it hit the bumpers in a zig zag all the way down the lane.  The man next to me, although we had never actually met, chuckled and offered up a high five. 

I smiled with my crooked teeth and gums showing and gave him the hardest high five I could.  He pretended to be in pain as he blew on his hand and hopped on one foot.  My father appeared behind me.  "What did I say about beating up the bowlers? That's no way for an angel to act."  My face got very serious then and I turned to the man still holding his hand.  He only stuck out his tongue and got back to his game for which he had a 237.  Good bowler.  I turned back to my dad who laughed and gave me a huge hug. 

We bowled that day for what seemed like years.  Time flew by and we tossed ball after ball.  We watched my older brother get three strikes, me destroy the lanes, and my little brother roll balls so slowly we had time to eat whole burgers while it rolled down the lane.

  But no one said anything about it. 

We high-fived and cheered for him the same way we did when my dad bowled 12 straight strikes.  A perfect game. 

Bowling was bowling.  People passed and waved although we didn't know them, and I even let a little girl who wandered onto our lane throw one of my balls. 

We were a family there in the bowling alley.  In fact, this was the only time I ever had a whole family.  Not divorced parents and step-siblings.  In here we were just a family and anyone was welcome to join in the lovefest.