I heard one of the greatest lines ever from Mr. Man this last Sunday, after arriving in the Brunswick Zone (say that in an over dramatic echoing voice for maximum appeal) and allowing our eyes to adjust to the black lit cosmic bowling atmosphere. A flicker of disdain crossed his eyes as he uttered...
"This place is a fucking hatchery!"
Best off the cuff remark ever. The place was crawling with little kids from no less than five birthday parties. Sundays and cosmic bowling must act as a beacon to small children. Anyone who knows me understands that there is no love lost between me and little kids. Thankfully, the shrill dog whistle of excitement they make when hopped up on pixie sticks and soda pop was drowned out by the sounds of bowling.
We were meeting a couple people here and wasted the time with four dollar bud bottles as we took in the mind boggling number of wee little munchkins tearing ass across the bowling alley and lobbing six pound balls down lanes with bumpers. Our party arrived and we proceeded to have a wicked amount of fun.
I don't know how you can possibly go bowling and NOT have fun. Between the shit talking and cheap pitchers, hilarity ensues. They eventually turned the lights on, the little kiddos filed out, and our crass, inappropriate humor was given free reign to shine.
I'm pretty sure everything there cost about four bucks. The beer. The shoe rental. The game. It's not the cheapest way to waste away an afternoon, but it's sure as hell a lot more fun than sitting on some sweltering bar patio or holed up inside watching a movie, with or without the ankle biters.