An Open Letter to the Red-Headed Lady Bowling in Lane 27 this afternoon:
I can understand that being assigned to Lane 27 at the bowling alley today, only to discover lanes 28, 29, and 30 were a child’s birthday party, probably wasn’t the best news ever. To be fair, though, you had a child with you, too, and I’m pretty sure your boyfriend was the ticket-taker at the 3-legged rooster exhibit at the sideshow area of this year’s county fair, so I was a little surprised by how uptight and hi-falooting you were regarding **our** company. But whatever.
My point is that although you might not have been thrilled to be right next to our group, had you actually paid attention, you would have noticed that our kids were pretty well-behaved and, in my opinion, not bothering you at all.
Which is why when my son, Kellen (he was the handsome young lad in the Motocross t-shirt bowling on the lane right next to you) came to me in the fourth frame and told me that he “lost” his ball, that in fact, you had taken it away from him and told him he couldn’t use it anymore, I was a bit confused. My first thought was one of embarrassment …. He must have been using your personal ball, not realizing. So I walked over to apologize and to point out to him which one was the 8-pound house ball that he needed.
Only to have you tell me that the 8-pound house ball was yours and he couldn’t use it.
Really? Yours? A house ball? Yours, yours, and only YOURS?
And to make sure he couldn’t use it, you had removed it from the community ball return and were holding between your feet on the floor.
Um, yeah. Seriously. I don’t know whether I was more annoyed, or amused. Oh, wait, yes I do. Annoyed.
So I schlepped myself to the other end of the bowling alley and got another, identical, 8-pound house ball and brought it down to the lane. And showed it to you, and made a very pointed comment about how “Now you don’t have to worry about sharing the ball, since I got him his very, very, very, very own.” And what was with the dirty look you gave me just then??
So, since the entire encounter leads me to believe you don’t understand the concept of house balls, I thought I would just clear up a few things for you:
1. You can’t DIBS a house ball. Even if you WANTED to DIBS a house ball, it’s not necessary. There are dozens more, and there is plenty of time for the ball to come back in the community return …. My son using the same ball as you is not going to make you miss your turn. It’s a child’s birthday party, for goodness sake, not the final game in the final match up of this year’s PBA Tour.
2. If you’re going to be that territorial about a ball, you should seriously consider buying your own. And having your name engraved on it, so no child makes the mistake of trying to use it. But FYI? When you do buy your own ball, it needs to be more than 8 pounds, because 6 and 8 pound house balls are for CHILDREN --- not grown women. If you’re over the age of sixteen and you’re bowling with an 8 pound ball, you better have some sort of muscle wasting disease, is all I have to say about it, or even better, be some kind of armless person who has to bowl with her teeth.
3. If you want to be taken seriously as a bowler, and the stupid wrist positioner you were wearing tells me that you do, you really need to invest in a 100% cotton bowling towel. Because while that “Seasoning and Spice” kitchen dishtowel you were using to wipe off your ball between throws might very well do the job, it makes you look like a total doofus.
4. Also, you should consider (and I mean seriously consider) taking a few lessons. In the fifth frame, your score was 32. Do I need to tell you that you suck, or do you already know? Because I would have thought someone as puckered as you are, who takes the possession of her house ball so seriously, would have at least broken 100 … and you didn’t even come close. Not to rub it in or anything, but my 7-yr old out-bowled you.
5. Lastly, your Mr. T necklace is ugly, and it’s past time to have your roots done. Not that those have anything to do with bowling, but I just thought you should know.
Happy Pins! Kristie
PS. To those of you who have been kind enough to ask …. I’m seeing a dermatologist tomorrow about my (finger quote) skin cancer (end finger quote). Not that it’s not really skin cancer, or that I’m not taking it seriously. I am. It just makes me feel better to be all melodramatic about it and use finger quotes. Yep, took four weeks to get an appointment. Good thing it wasn’t flesh-eating disease, or I’d have lost a limb or two by now. I’ll update after the appointment … for now, I’m just dreading having to disrobe in front of yet another stranger tomorrow. I thought that shit ended when I got married.
Gak. Maybe I can really round out my day by going bowling after and trying to steal somebody’s house ball.