Went black light bowling with Mel and Adam and the belter last night. We played three games, and had the whole place to ourselves for the last two. The pins were falling strangely, and we think there was something wrong with the lane. There were lots of "goalposts," "the three amigos," and let's not forget "the lonesome dove." I think maybe too many people have been ignoring the "do not loft balls" sign and our lane had somehow become warped from the constant pounding over the years.
I won the first game through sheer luck/karma/divine intervention, and the fact that everyone else was getting warmed up. Later, as the pounding rhythms of "Tragedy" by the Bee Gees simultaneously inspired my companions and sapped my lifeblood, my game went to pieces and the Adam/Mel juggernaut quickly had the scoreboard sparkling with "X"s (which mean strike, you know) and "srares" (a curious typo for "spare" that appeared once and only once. Next time we go, I really hope to get a srare, too).
But it's not all about winning. It's about finding your optimum zone of bowling finesse and relaxation through drinking beer. I love playing sports.