Guttersnipe

Finally, mercifully, we’ve almost reached the end. Only a couple more greasy gutters into which we must dip our collective fingers. Week 25 is upon us and according to the league webpage this will be the last night of regular play and then there will be some sort of “roll-off” to cap things off.

We’re still stuck in second-last with 23 points. That’s 36 back of the leaders and somehow 14 up on the league standings caboose. I tried to explain to Lily Liver that it was impossible for us to slide into last place in hopes of some booby prize but after 5 minutes and a drawing I gave up. I don’t know how he gets his taxes finished every year with that tenuous grasp of basic mathematics.

Last week we played with three of our four members, with the lady member staying home and her husband bringing their 9-year-old son. The son somehow thought he was going to bowl but with his average of 31 (I’ve seen him roll a full-game 7) he is the rare individual who would not improve our chances.

His disappointed antics didn’t help much, either, but it was better than having to watch that axe murder play out on our lane for three straight games. Probably contravenes league bylaws, anyway.

Game one started off pretty well for us. I had a decent game and led the way with a 146 while my compatriots barely scraped over 100. We ended up 39 points short of the opposing team. I can’t for the life of me remember any of them possessing a single interesting characteristic save that they can beat us at bowling.

Game two was a hammer to the coccyx. 77 points, shortness of breath and a nasty bruise. Something like that. It was ugly.

Game three? Who could care any less? Not this bowler. Only 32 points short and we were sent on our way with nothing but the dirty underwear we walked in with to keep us warm. I’m at a loss trying to describe another losing bowling game.

I guess it was fun though. The waitress is very cute and the beer is good enough.

Maybe I’ll just get a sprite next time.

Or maybe I’ll shove my own bowling ball down my throat and sing show tunes until they drag me away to a nice farm with lots of warm milk and no flies in my food.

It’s too nice out to think about that. I’d rather be raking wasp nests naked than take any more league play but I’m determined to get through this and by golly I’m going to do it. Wish us luck and enjoy the movie of the week.