#7. Cosmic Bowling

#7. Cosmic Bowling

Patrick and Wendell got to the bowling alley and walked into darkness illuminated by black lights and multicolored lasers shone through billowing smoke from the machine by the door. The smoke only filled about half the room, leaving the far-side lanes to a pathetically laserless fate.

Patrick looked at Wendell skeptically. Wendell shrugged. “Eh, it’ll do.”

They got their shoes and balls and took a lane. All that was left were the far lanes, where red, purple and blue eyes moved around ineffectually. Though Wendell muttered something about this being lame, Patrick didn’t care much. He was even a little thankful they could see each other better in the smoke-free pale light.

“So what’s new with you?” Wendell asked as he tied his shoes.

The first thing Patrick thought about was Susan. “I don’t know,” he said. He wanted to tell Wendell about her, but how? This wasn’t like in college, when it was expected he would bring tales of romantic glory back to the dorm. Now he felt sheepish about it, stupid. It isn’t cool to talk about crushes when you were married, Patrick thought. There’s no fun in it. Actually, it seemed a lot scarier to think about it coming out of his mouth, becoming real.

“How’s April?” Wendell asked.

“She’s . . . she’s okay. Hates her job, still. Complains about it a lot. But we’re trying to save up for a new place, so she just keeps on with it.”

“What kind of place? Another apartment, or are you guys thinking house?”

“Just a bigger apartment. Yeah, she wants a bigger place, but she wants a kid, too. I mean, we want kids, but there’s barely any room. So I don’t know. We’re just working and working and saving and on and on like that, feels like.”

Wendell laughed. “You make it sound so exciting.”

“Exciting isn’t exactly a word I’d use,” Patrick said, and reached forward to set up the computer for a game. “Good, though.”

Wendell sighed, as theatrically as he could. “I wanna get hitched, Pat.”

“I know you do.”

“The girl with the eyes – aquamarine. She’s in here Pat, I can feel it. I mean, somewhere along the timeline, the one that starts here and goes on for months, years – however long it takes – she’s on it, here. Do you know what that means? It means we must return. I means we must come here each and every week. We must cosmic bowl me into a wedding band. Preferably platinum. My rich bride will not skimp.”

“You go first,” Patrick said.

“My sea nymph shall have treasure unparalleled beneath the sea, my good friend. And Poseidon himself shall be my father-in-law.”

“You need to replace that copy of The Little Mermaid, pal.”

“I have really been jonesin’ for it,” Wendell said, and stepped up to bowl.

“I’m getting a beer,” Patrick said.

From that point on, Wendell and Patrick did go every week. April never went because she almost always had to work, and even when she had the night off she chose to stay home because A: she could not bowl and B: she could only stand so much of Wendell’s “artsy-fartsy talk.” So it was just the two of them for about a month, until Wendell started bringing strangers along. Literally, the people Wendell tended to invite had been complete strangers to him until he presented himself to them in a bar or coffee shop the week before, or sometimes the same day. Sometimes his guests just didn’t quite fit, like Harry and Cindy, a middle-aged couple who thought they needed a Tuesday night activity and thought Wendell was just too adorable to say no to. But people like that didn’t stick with it. The regulars included Kristin and Christina, best friends to the point of almost being conjoined; Charlemagne, Christina’s 16-year-old younger sister with few social prospects outside of her older sibling; and Robert, who didn’t seem to have any friends at all. They were all chain smokers, and Patrick was a lot slower to tolerate them than Wendell was to treat them like family.

With every newcomer, Wendell never missed the opportunity to share the desire of his heart, to meet his aquamarine beauty and have ten children with her. It touched everyone’s heart to various degrees, and all vowed to help Wendell find her. In the meantime he was quite content to make out with Kristin on occasion.

Meanwhile Patrick was dying for the opportunity to spend time with Susan again, and all he could think of was inviting her bowling. There were so few chances to talk to her, though, that he just couldn’t figure out how or when to ask nonchalantly. He knew it wouldn’t do to ask her as if for a first date – he needed bowling to just come up in conversation. He needed to drop in a suggestion, not actively invite her. He decided that if his vows meant anything, they certainly included not asking women other than April out on dates.

Then Patrick got lucky. Derek, one of the few FOP workers determined enough to reach over cubicle walls to create any social interaction, passed around flyers one Friday inviting everybody in the call center to another office get-together: this time, at his house. Derek had been working at the FOP for long enough and was now making enough that earlier that year he had decided to take out a mortgage on a house. The result was a very impressive bachelor pad, complete with three bedrooms, two baths, a finished basement with a flat-screen TV and game room, a spacious back deck, a full-width front porch and two refrigerators: one for food and one for beer. Patrick was ecstatic. It felt like going back in time to a high school party, in a real house, but this time he was actually invited. And Susan would be there.

Patrick didn’t want to want Susan to be there. He wanted to be excited only about the social gathering and about free beer, and be only passively interested that someone he knew – this Susan person – was probably going to attend as well. He knew perfectly well that he was married, and as such, he went straight to the wife to ask her if she wanted to go.

“Holy shit, he’s got a finished basement? That rocks!” April said.

“So you’re in?”

“Hell yes, I’m in. Sounds like your work friends aren’t as lame as I thought.”

“Yeah, should be fun,” Patrick said, and began furiously erasing those green eyes from his mind.