The Strib article about the bowling alley is up. The accompanying photo gallery even has a pic of my dad on top of one of the machines. The article is cute and sad. The reporter did a good job getting my mom’s voice down, which is awesome (and those of you familiar with my short stories about the bowling alley will totally recognize some of the language).

The closing of the bowling alley reminds me a little of graduation. It seems like by the time you actually get to the final act, you’ve done so many ‘last time evers’ that you get a little sick of it and wonder if the actual ‘last time ever’ is going to come.

Reading about the closing in the Strib makes it all the more real, and it’s hard to take. If I had a dollar for every time I bitched about working at the bowling alley, I’m pretty damn sure I’d have more money than I ever made in tips. But now with the end so very near, it makes me cry. Saying goodbye is going to be tough.

Last night, Sister #2 wrote about the last night of leagues ever at Dan Patch Lanes. I never wrote about my last Friday night of leagues. It got lost in the hubbub of a broken down car, and I knew I’d see all my guys this Friday for our bowling banquet.

This weekend is the final weekend. The last time ever, ever. I have a suspicion that I’ll be a total wreck.