Victory is Between My Legs: 15 beers on a 2 eggroll stomach
Wednesday was the WNEP Theater Bowl-A-Thon, and while last year I bowled a record-breaking low of 126 over three games (36 Gutterballs!), this year I have to say…I fucking ROCKED. Rolled 200, with a couple of strikes, and a mere handful of tankers. This vast improvement was thanks to my new strategy of abandoning all pride and any hope of looking like a “real bowler.”
Every single shot…Granny style. There was no dainty ballerina-trot to the end of the lane, co-ordinated with a perfectly executed single handed launch of the ball. No. Every goddamn time, I walked up to that little line of arrows carved in the hardwood, hunched over, gripped the ball firmly with both hands (I didn’t need the little finger holes this year) and pitched it between my legs.
3 strikes, a couple of spares, and a total score of 200.
I’m pretty goddamn proud.
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I was also pretty goddamn drunk.
The goal of the Bowl-a-Thon is for the participants to secure “pledges-per-pin.” Say someone donated 10 cents a pin to me. After my score of 200, they would have owed WNEP $20. Which, wouldn’t have been too shabby, if I’d had any confidence in my bowling ability. But since I was so god-awful last year, I didn’t even TRY to get per-pin pledges this year. I went with what I KNOW I’m good at.
I asked for per-BEER pledges.
4:30pm
Beers 1-2 are consumed in my house. I figured as long as I was drinking them on the same DAY as the Bowl-a-Thon, they count.
6:00pm
Beers 3-5 were enjoyed at a quaint German pub, with my buddy Tucker (also a WNEP company member) before we headed over to the bowling alley. Beers 3-5 were accompanied by much bitching about jobs and fathers.
7:45 pm
I eat 2 eggrolls on the walk over to Lincoln Square Lanes. I have not eaten anything else all day.
8:00pm
Bowl-A-Thon Commences. Beer 6 purchased.
After that…I kind of lost track of time. Beer 8 was free, I do remember that (God bless bartenders), and sometime around beer 9-10 I started calling my boyfriend after every shot “Becaush I’m sucsh a goooood bowlerrrrrrIloveyouuuuuOopsIshmyturnnowIgottagoIlovvvvveyou!”
This repeated after pretty much every shot. Yeah, I hate me too.
Midnight
Another successful WNEP Bowl-A-Thon was but a happy memory, as every other bowler in the company had gone home. The bowling alley was deserted, except for two of my compatriots as we discuss…I don’t know, philosophy or some shit, and I finish:
Beer 15.
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For those thinking “15 beers over several hours…That’s not so bad. I’ve drank more than that!” well bully for you. I’m 4′10, female, and I hadn’t eaten anything ALL DAY except two egg rolls. I was completely shellacked.
But I did make a couple hundred bucks for a good cause, and I made about 300 double entendres involving “balls”, so all in all, good times.
Now I just need to find reasons for people to sponsor my drinking all the time.
I’m having a beer right now…Do I hear one dollar? One dollar?
Anybody?