Cleaning my balls and goin bowlin

When you're a kid, your parents try to pressure you into having interests and taking lessons to hone those specific skills.  Mostly, I think, my parents tried to pressure me into doing what all the other kids interests were. Were they really my interests? Was I actually going to be world renowned violinist? I'm not quite sure.  I took ballet, wore a stupid black leotard and pink tutu... because every other girl was. I took jazz and tap, wore way too much makeup and danced around to Rick Astley tunes... because every other girl was. I played in a bowling league, (that may or may not have had bumpers), completely sucked and was awarded a last place trophy that had a skunk on it... because my parents wanted to give me lasting rejection related issues...

In the last couple of months, I have found myself in a bowling alley more than I ever thought I would have.  Of course the bowling alleys in the city are nothing like the ones in Jersey. These are bowling lounges... alley sounds seedy, and these places are too posh for that.  I have learned from my recent experiences that 1) I am not a terrible bowler, simply inconsistent, 2) I bowl slightly better after a couple of drinks, and 3) I wish I could go back in time and find the douchebag who thought giving a 10 year old a last place trophy with a skunk on it was a really great idea... and kick the living shit out of him...