Last night, The Dad and I got a sitter and out went out! It was kind of a date-night and kind of a night-with-friends. In any event, we went bowling at Lincoln Square Lanes, an old-school bowling alley if there ever was one. Most reviews refer to the establishment as a dive, and that is probably pretty accurate. However, I find its no-apologies, blue-collar aesthetic rather charming.
We met my group of college friends there. I drank a lot of Pabst Blue Ribbon, ate several bags of pretzels, and beat The Dad in our round of bowling (neither of us cleared 100, however, despite my strike and spare). I scored our game manually; it seems odd to me that reviewers would complain about also having to do so. This must be where my age shows — self-scoring lanes are relatively new to my memories of the game. Manually scoring bowling, life without cell phones, rabbit ears, and retaining my ability to hear — all things anyone under the age of 25 will find strange.
It was a great night.