I looked disgustedly at the score and slammed the pencil down. Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed, I thought, as I walked dejectedly to the ball return and picked up my ball.
I set myself carefully, sighing deeply, and began my approach. The ball looked good until' the last minute, then broke sharply to the left, hitting the headpin squarely and leaving yet another split.
“Oh, shit!” I grumbled, and headed back to the ball return wondering if it was really worth all the time and effort I was putting m' at the bowling alley.
I had one dream, one desperate desire that had been driving me to spend so much time at the Fun Lanes over the last four weeks. I wanted to beat Doug Morris at something . . . anything . . . and bowling was my last hope.