Bowling

Bill the smog guru told me a story about the first time he smoked pot. It was nineteen-sixty something. He was a teenager living in San Francisco. His father was a colonel in the U.S. Army. Bill was living at the Presidio at the time. Military housing.

Bill was at the bowling alley when a beautiful young girl with pale light skin and straight dark hair asked him if he wanted to smoke a joint. Bill took one look at her and said yes.

The two went outside and found a field, and leaned up against a tree. The girl pulled out a huge joint and they smoked it to the roach.

They went back inside to bowl. Bill picked up a ball and threw a strike. Then he threw another, and another. Pretty soon a crowd started to gather. Bill kept throwing strikes one after another. The crowd got bigger and Bill kept throwing strikes. The crowd started to cheer him on. The bowling alley was filled with excitement.

            Bill was one strike away from a perfect game. He threw the ball and it smashed hard into the pins. The pins scattered violently. They all fell down but one. The seven pin, it wobbled pretty good before it settled back upright. The crowd was disappointed. Bill didn’t care. His best score to that point was one-twenty.