The Married Life: Bowling Night

Many moons ago, when Blair was courting me, he took me bowling. Nothing quite says romance like pulling on rented shoes and bending over to heave a ball so your date can see just how big your ass really is. 

The date would mark Blair's first glimpse into the true nature of my personality. I'd been on "good date" behavior until then, laughing at all jokes, smiling beguiling, and surreptitiously applying lip gloss whenever his back was turned in the hopes he would think my lips were just naturally luminescent. But we'd been out a few times and it was time to take off the kid gloves.

We were in the fourth of fifth frame of the first game. Blair had led off and just completed his turn and was maybe 4 pins ahead of me. I picked up my ball but, instead of proceeding to the lane, stood in front of and facing Blair as he sat in the row of little plastic chairs behind the scoring table. 

"It's your turn," he said.

"Yes, I know." I continued to stand in front of him, rocking back and forth on my heels. 

"Um...  so are you going to bowl?"

"Oh sure," I said, smiling sweetly as I placed my fingers in the holes. "I just wanted to wait a moment and give you a chance to enjoy being ahead. You know, before I BOWL AGAIN."

There was a moment of stunned silence, then this:

"Oh, sweetheart," said Blair, pointing a finger at me and grinning. "You better bring it, because it is on."

Interestingly, I have no memory of who won that game. What I do remember is many more dates, a lot more laughter, and I think maybe around the 10th date I gave up on the lipstick. 

We still go bowling every now and again and Blair routinely kicks my butt. I don't care. Having him for a husband, I think I won in the long run.