I Stink at Bowling

After four weeks, this godawful cold that has hung on like a visitor from up north, seems to have abated. My sense of smell has returned. You would think I'd be happy, but I actually wish it had hung on at least one more day.

I always look forward to Monday night bowling. I enjoy it even if I often look like an uncoordinated boob. I do bowl well every once in a while, just often enough to keep me trying, but the norm these days is crap. This past Monday we were competing against a team with a very special member, I'll call him Pepé Le Pew. Pepé is a guy who has no sense of smell or no sense of what he smells like, and apparently does not own a bathtub. He stinks. When we bowl against his team I usually spend most of my time upwind, near the bar. This has a two-fold benefit. I don’t have to smell his stench, and If I drink enough the smell doesn’t bother me so much. The biggest problem with Pepé is that he is distracting. When it is your turn to bowl it is very disconcerting to have a cloud of Pepé’s odor wafting under your nose. The only benefit I can see bowling against this stink bomb, is that on those nights I don’t feel so bad about my silent little farts.