Score A Strike At St. Louis Area Bowling Lanes

I used to manage a restaurant in a rural area about 30 minutes outside of St. Louis. I had an employee who worked for me named Dan. I also employed his teenage daughter, his cousin, and his ex-wife, but not all at the same time. Dan was a truck driver by trade and only worked when the driving business was a little slow or when he was between jobs. He was a country sort of fellow who wore a dirty baseball cap and sported a beer belly about the size of Texas, which was where he was originally from. Sometimes, for special occasions, when he really wanted to dress up, he wore his cowboy hat and a button down shirt with pearl buttons and his special pair of boots. The rest of his family, (and there were a lot of them), worked for a discount/department store named Grandpa's. It was called Grandpa Pigeon’s in the beginning, but somewhere along the way it became just Grandpa’s. It was basically the Neanderthal that preceded Wal-Mart and they specialized in even cheaper merchandise than the current retail giant. They sold cheap clothes, a lot of fishing equipment, and “reconditioned” appliances. In other words: used stuff. Grandpa’s had a bowling league and one-day Dan invited me to join. He could get me on the league because he was tight with the manager, so I didn’t have to be an employee. I wasn’t really sure why I accepted, but I did. Maybe it was in the interest of good employee relations, or maybe it was because I needed a break from the 50+ hours a week I was working.

I decided to do it up right; investing in a new custom-drilled bowling ball, a leather hand brace, and a new pair of bowling shoes. (The ones they had at the bowling alley looked pretty nasty, and the visions of foot fungus made my feet itch.) All the equipment didn’t help my game much, (we came in last place), but the nachos were good and the beer was cold, so we had a good time. Dan even offered to fix me up with one of my fellow teammates named Myrtle, but the season mercifully ended before that could happen.

Now this decidedly kitsch retro sport has become a trendsetter pastime, complete with fancy drinks and hip décor.