Why Bowling Shoes are Ugly and Dangerous...

I don’t like bowling shoes.  Never have.  Probably because I am not a good bowler.  I think I used to do “ok” way back in high school.  But we all think that don’t we?  I seriously think I am not a big fan of bowling anymore because I simply can’t move the correct way.  I am afraid I will pull a rod or something.

I am not saying bowling isn’t fun.  It is really fun when we go to Fun City with all of Mom’s family and we take up two lanes of bowling when only one of us (Uncle Dennis) is really a great bowler…those times are fun but I just watch. 

I don’t feel like I have control in bowling shoes…even when not on the alley itself.  They scare me.  I suppose they would anyone who had a bad back…but I will keep my Keens thanks. 

So on the night we somehow ended up going on a road trip for Amy Taylors birthday bash, I was quite surprised to find my friend Angie Johnson in a pair of bowling shoes.  That I think she stole.  Apparently she thought they were cute, or stylish or something.  I bet she doesn’t think this now.

Why we were going on a road-trip I do not know.  I don’t know if it was last minute or we planned it.  It was sister, Angie, her husband Ernie, Me, Dana, and someone else.  At the last minute we ended up with Jill Schisler.  That requires its own blog entirely.  I do not know how we ended up with her, but we did. 

We took off in sisters Tahoe, of course taking the back roads…sister and Jill in front seat, Angie and Ernie in middle, me, Dana and whoever was in the very back.

We approach a railroad track in the middle of nowhere…someone decided it would be a good idea to do a Chinese fire drill.  However, those participating in the drill apparently thought it was not necessary to wait until sister had come to a full stop before beginning the drill.  And sister was unaware of this, because she was screaming The Boulevard of Broken Dreams, or some song by Green Day at the top of her lungs.  In fact, the radio was up rather loud.

So sister is screaming Green Day, those of us in the back can’t get out anyway, the radio is blaring, Jill, Ernie and Angie bail out of the car, which surprises us in the third row since we are still moving, but whatever, next thing you know, those of us in the third row go over this hump, and we all look at each other and I say, I think we ran over someone.  The only person that returns to the car is Jill, screaming, I won, I won!  No Angie and Ernie…not right away anyway.  When they do return to the car, Ernie is white and Angie is grabbing her head. 

Yes, we, or sister rather, ran over Angie’s head.  Why?  Because when Angie took off while the car was still moving, her fabulous bowling shoes kicked in and proceeded to catapult her under the car…while it was still moving…

The fear in Ernie’s eyes was, well, for lack of a better word, scary.   He kept asking her questions like a paramedic would, which is a good thing, because I am pretty sure at the very least she had a concussion.  His biggest fear in life is that he was going to have to feed her pudding and jell-o for the rest of her life.  He wanted to go home, she wanted to continue partying…it would have probably benefited her to have gone to the Emergency Room, but alas we continued on our journey to the party.  I do believe a few days later Ernie finally made her go have her head examined.

It wasn’t until we got to the party and were under actual lights that you could see the tire tread on the back of her shirt.  Oh dear God, she really was ran over.  Wearing bowling shoes.  Doing a Chinese fire drill.  In the middle of a back road.  Pitch black outside. 

The only consolation being that coming up behind us was Pam Walter and she had seen the whole thing go down.  I guess we had a witness should it end up in a court of law.

 

I cannot speak for sister but I think this is the only time she has ever run over another human being.  We laughed then and we laughed about it now.  I am not sure that Angie has been “right” since the accident, but she is alive and well to talk about it. 

Moral of this story.  Not only are bowling shoes stupid, but they are dangerous.  On or off of the proper platform in which they are to be used.  They are not even attractive.