I don't know how many of you have kids here (if you don't have any, please play along), but those of you who do have
You know what I mean.
This past Saturday night my in-laws took our daughter out for the evening. This left my husband and me with a few free hours to do whatever we wanted (minds out of the gutter people).
We hemmed and hawed about what to do...dinner out? A movie? As we were pondering the possibilities my husband said "Want to go bowling?"
Now, let me say up front, neither of us are "athletic". The last time I remember going bowling was before I got pregnant with my daughter (in other words...long time ago). But something in the back of my mind said "Bowling could be a lot of fun, if not deliciously white trash."
So off we went.
We went to a new bowling alley not too far from us called Kings.
Okay..cool sign. Lot of promise here...
This was written on the window...
I think we're about to find out.
Before bowling, we decided to grab some dinner and drinks to build our stamina.
Naturally, the first thing I look at on the menu is martinis.
I got a pink lemonade concoction with vodka. This is one of those dangerous drinks that tastes just like lemonade so you suck it down quickly then when you go to stand up you find yourself sitting on the floor thinking "How did I get down here?"
We did have some food as well...
Burgers and fries. Always an excellent choice.
Once we finished our meal, we headed down to the lanes.
God, it sounds like we do this all the time, doesn't it?
I loved the interior of this place. It was very dark and red and I felt like I was on the set of Swingers the entire time.
This was the lighted sign above the register. Seriously...forget about the Real Housewives of Where Ever, these are the ones I want to hang with.
Once we got our shoes, we headed over to the lane we were given.
It was at this point in time that I just started using whatever ball was on the ball return because it'd been so long since I bowled that I forgot you had to pick a ball out before you headed to your lane. Let's just say that I needed a 7 to 8 pound ball, but the holes on them were made for the Olsen Twins so I had to use a 10 pounds ball because it was the only one I could get my normal sized fingers in.
Let's just say it was not good.
Here is an action shot of me. It looks like I know what I'm doing, right? Form is good, ball looks like it's going to head down the middle of the lane. Well, it didn't. My final score was somewhere around 57. Not PBA material, that's for sure.
My husband was on a bowling league once, so you'd think he'd know what he was doing. Not so. I think he scored one point higher than me in the first game.
In the end we bowled two games. I considered the first game a warm up because I scored not one but two strikes at the beginning of the second game. Alas, the heavier-than-I-could-handle ball got to me and by the 5th frame I thought my arm was going to fall off and die. We decided to quit while we were ahead (and in one piece).
All in all, we had a fun time. We had dinner, talked, high-fived each other while bowling and laughed like idiots.
Having beers while bowling did help...