Corbin Lanes is the place for part-time beer drinkers and part-time bowlers to let it all hang out on a Friday night and chase the elusive 300 score. At around 9:00pm, the lights are dimmed and the fog machine starts rolling in something that I would prefer not to inhale. Black light bowling begins and the music is cranked so it becomes equal parts dance club and bowling alley.

The competition was as thick as a McDonald’s Shamrock shake: Toni Ribas, David Perry, Steve Holmes, Manuel Ferrara, Loona Luxx, Mr. Pete, Alexis Texas, Ian Scott, Cecilia Vega, Rebeca Linares, Chris Streams, and several others. I would not go quietly into the night. I raged….RAGED against the dying of the blacklight! Strike…spare….gutterball….7/10 split. I faced it all with the courage of a US Airways pilot doing an emergency landing on the Hudson.

I would not be denied. I scored a near-perfect 122. For one brief 10-frame snapshot of my life, I was as heroic as “Sully” Sullenberger. No, I did not save 155 people with my actions.

I saved myself.

I saved my dignity. No longer would I be the Woody Harrelson character from Kingpin. For one delicious moment, I was Bill Murray.

The next time someone asks, tell them 122 is a perfect score in bowling.