Bowling update:
Okay, so we're up one game and it's tenth frame of the second. Matt bowls a spare, but from where I'm sitting, I didn't see that the ball richocheted off a pin in the gutter in order to make the spare. Once I found out, well, big deal. Totally legal.Our opponents didn't seem to think so, however, and two of them stormed off shouting "This is bullshit!" to whoever would listen (i.e. nobody). John went off to placate them, but Matt, I thought, was going to take a swing at one of them. Or both. Or all of us. A 98-pound weakling, Matt is not. And when I'm around someone who's not a 98-pound weakling, I tend to up my own weight class to the 110-pound weakling myself. So if there was going to be a rumble, I was all for it. I had the little guy staked out (with this team, the "little guy" was the one whose bowling gut was smaller than a basketball).
So we had our blood up for that last game. My two other games were pretty dismal, but all weariness left me at the third and I was knocking pins over like my life savings depended on it. I don't remember my final score, but I did well enough to hold my own, as did Andy. Probably John and Matt did too, but we lost anyway, which really pissed us off.
I am not, and never have been, a childish little prick, but I can play the role. And I did my best:
Me: Well we lost by twenty-five pins. Anybody want to contest?Lest we should seem like bad losers, let me reiterate: that cocksucker wouldn't have been shaking any hands if he'd lost. And lose he will. It'll be a long season, and now I've got double the motivation to win that I had before.
Matt: No, I'm fine. I just don't like it when people start whining and acting like a bunch of little bitches.
Me: I'm sorry, little what?
Matt: Little bitches. You know, the kind that piss and moan instead of talking it out like a bunch of adults when they don't get their way?
Me: Oh, little bitches. Like these guys.
The opponents aren't even looking up from tying their shoes and putting their coats on. Our voices subsequently increase in volume, to make sure they're hearing us.
Me: Little bitches, little girls. I get you. You mean the kind that yell and stomp around?
John: Yeah, and the kind that don't say a word when they get their way, but just go back to business as usual?
Matt: That's the kind. They have plenty of them back home, in the day cares. But we have to spank their asses when they whine too much.
Me: If only that were legal by Illinois law.
Surly opponent #1: Hey, good game, guys.
He shakes all our hands. We don't even look at him.
Me: You sure you won fair? It could have been a twenty-six point spread.
