The bowling alley on the corner of City Avenue and Haverford Drive is, hands down, the most ghetto bowling alley I have been to in my life. It is seemingly manned by a single individual behind the shoe rental counter. The bowling ball racks were about 20% filled, and one of the balls that Chris encountered had all 3 finger holes parallel to each other. Halfway through our first game, a mysterious, unidentified object appeared in the lane gutter and wobbled like a seal trying to shimmy itself up a hill. Our keypad was held together by a piece of duct tape, and the leader of the group three lanes down from us kept yelling, "FAGGOT! FAGGOT-ASS!!" every time he bowled poorly. And there are no concession stands, so one is required to experience the evening completely sober.
I am ashamed to type these words, but this is the bowling alley that Chris and I took our friend Geoff to on his birthday. Had we taken him to the Sizzler it probably would have felt like the Ritz. If you read this, Geoff, please accept this very public IOU:
We, Chris and Amy, owe you one night of bowling-until-your-fingers-die at North Bowl or another swanky bowling alley of your choice.
For everybody else reading, please consider this a public service announcement of the perils of the bowling alley at the corner of City Ave and Haverford.
That is all.
*Center Lanes. You have been warned.
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