You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna break into a zoo after they close – and chew on a monkey?
I think I have made myself very clear over the past year or two – I do not like these pant-load Hipster millennial yuppies. They are trying to reshape our society for their own pin-headed, selfish snowflake needs. And I don’t like it.
I mean – I dare you to go into any bowling alley – that still looks like a bowling alley. No. Now, they’re ‘entertainment centers’. Rock and Roll family bowling… a DJ spinning hits… dopey snowflake head-banging music blaring. And this one disturbs me to no end – rental shoes – with Velcro. What the hell???
Man – last weekend – I thought I stepped into Studio 54. Turns out I was on Lane 12.
And the lobby at the bowling alley used to be dimly lit. There’d be a wall of glass cases with league standings, and a bar dispensing long-necks and nachos. Now it looks like a Chuck E. Cheese – on steroids. I mean – I’d like to roll a couple games. Yeah – if I don’t get the convulsions first – walking past all them blinking video games.
And I took my little boy, Earl Junior. Halfway through game one – he disappeared.
And I can’t jump ahead on account of we got a robot keeping our score. So, I’m setting there. Waiting. While the scoreboard keeps blinking… ‘EJ – roll a ball’. ‘EJ roll a ball.’
Anyways – my boy finally comes back to the lane and says, sorry – he was at the batting cages. I have no idea what that meant.
Then a day care class of three-year-olds rented the lane next to us. They started bowling with a bowling ball ramp and gutter bumpers. And I might add – every now and then the odd three-year old would be wandering into our lane. Man – I could have took out one or two toddlers with the back-swing of a 16-pounder.
Here’s the sad part. I can’t even tell you how I bowled… because these new hipster entertainment money traps don’t let you bowl by the game. You bowl by the hour. So, if people ask me how I bowled… I tell’em – I don’t know. I’m not finished. I’m on frame eight!!
Wake up, America! Man, I’d give anything for a seedy, run-down, darkly lit bowling alley. That was good clean, American fun. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Pitts Off.