The olfactory was unusually acute as Kyle and I walked the five mile journey to Hollywood Bowl.

Wait.

We had no intentions of walking the entire way, but the bus wasn't going to pass for another hour. We had better luck hitching a ride on a wind blown leaf so we opted to speed walk the entire distance with our upper torsos tilted at a 45 degree angle in order to reduce wind resistance and optimize speed.

Semi-exhausted, we arrived at the place only to find a three mile line with one clerk operating the register. There was a little old lady standing next to him, but it appeared like she was more of a decorative piece than someone who could offer any assistance. Kyle and I decided to skip on the line and get a drink when we saw Becky and Teresa (Kyle's old roommates from the year spent in Woodstock). Apparently, it was Teresa's 30th birthday and she and 10 of her cohorts were ready to send marble down the oil slicked pine. We were happy to join the party on the stipulation that we could get a drink first and see if the line would taper down anymore. They didn't give a fuck and either did we.

Like any family friendly place the bar is overly protective about serving alcohol. After being stink eyed by the 18 year old bouncer, I was given a 4" thick wrist band (basically a fucking cuff link) and asked to pull up my sleaves so that the bartender could see it at all times. I had little doubt that I would be served a whiskey and coke in a standard airline plastic cup. Indeed, I was fucking right. For some reason the plastic made the whiskey taste like rubber and I almost handed the fucking thing back to the burleytender.

After paying the 12 dollar fee (I thought if one thing wasn't affected by inflation it would be bowling), we ventured to our lane, strapped on the shoes, and air dried the sweaty palm. Kyle was determined to master his signature reverse curl. A move that requires tenacious will and a high tolerance to pain. I'd like to continue this, but I just can't seem to see the point... What a strange mood I'm in.