Lanes of Friendship: Imagined Bowling Adventure
Mitchell is that sweet boy I’ve seen around—awkward, different, but somehow fascinating. I know he struggles with some challenges, and yeah, sometimes he wears protection because of accidents. But in my mind, that doesn’t define him. It’s just a part of who he is, and in our imaginary world at Sunset Lanes, it doesn’t matter one bit.
I’ve watched Mitchell from a distance, and I know bowling isn’t his strong suit. In fact, he’s spectacularly terrible. But that’s the beauty of my imagined friendship—we’d celebrate every single throw, no matter how badly it goes.
Picture this: Sunset Lanes, with its flickering fluorescent lights and worn carpet. Mitchell arrives, a bit nervous, wearing those oversized rental shoes that never quite fit right. I’d be right there beside him, ready with a pack of wet wipes and zero judgment. If he needs to change, it’s no big deal. We’re friends in this moment, and friends take care of each other.
His first throw would be a disaster—the ball would likely veer wildly into the gutter, maybe even bounce off the side wall in a way that defies all bowling physics. I’d laugh—not at him, but with him. The kind of laugh that says, “Who cares about perfect technique?” Mitchell would probably look embarrassed for a moment, but then he’d catch my eye, and we’d both burst out laughing.
I’d help him adjust his stance, show him how to hold the ball. We’d make a game of who can have the most spectacularly bad throw. Gutter balls would become our trophy, our badge of honor. The other bowlers might look, might whisper, but in our lane, none of that matters.
Between throws, I’d make sure he’s comfortable. If he needs to change, it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom. No big deal. No shame. Just two friends, enjoying a night out, proving that bowling isn’t about perfection—it’s about having fun.
By the end of the night, Mitchell might not have gotten a single strike. Heck, he might not have even hit a single pin. But we’d be high-fiving, sharing a massive plate of greasy fries, talking about everything and nothing.
In reality, Mitchell and I have never spoken. But in my imagination, we’re the kings of Sunset Lanes—two friends who know that life is about so much more than being perfect. It’s about being present, being kind, and finding joy in the most unexpected moments.
And if that means wearing pampers, catching accidents, or throwing the world’s worst bowling ball—well, that’s just part of our story.