Myra’s notes, attempting the style of David Foster Wallace

We walked into the brightly lit environment of the bowling alley, with the sound of balls thunking and clunking as they hit strikes on the glossy hardwood floors. The pins falling sounded musical. Sporadic applause filled the place and people occasionally high-fived each other. Monitors with brightly colored displays flickered.

 

Three guys in their 50s or 60s sat at a table. One was bald, his head beautifully shiny in the light, with a smudge of brown, close-clipped hair and slight sideburns. Another man wore a cap.  There was a woman with light golden brown hair, a beautiful color. It was slightly wavy and held back with a tortoise shell clip.

 

One man went to Rowan for an engineering degree. Nearby, a woman in a low-cut pink shirt bummed a French fry off a companion.

 

The people mostly lived in Glassboro and Clayton. They played in the All Mixed Up league every Tuesday. There is also an all female league from Glassboro.

 

A man aged around 35 wore a wrist brace and a faded Penn State t shirt. He had a friend wearing a closed cropped hairstyle and a diamond earring.

Another person wore a Freilenger t shirt, jeans, sweatshirts and T shirts.

 

A voice booms over the loudspeaker: “Nice going, Corey! Woo-hoo!”

 

An elderly man patted me on the back.

 

There was also a woman named Kori who went to St. Peter’s College. She was originally from New Orleans, and since it was Mardi Gras, she had bracelets and necklaces in the proper gold, purple, green colors.

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