today was just meant to be a bad day i think. we lost another bowler tonight. sure, it was icky, creepy, lip-licking sorta pervy guy– but it’s still sad. i mean, he didn’t mean any harm. . . just one of those guys who gave you the oogins. he was a friendly, smiley guy. . . liked to tease me about books. he really just never quite grasped the concept of personal space. they announced at the begining of bowling tonight that he was in intensive care. i guess he had aneurysm in his stomach (i didn’t even know you could have them there) and they operated over the weekend. they were passing around a card for everyone to sign (which is suprisingly thoughtful for a buncha men). the card gets to me finally and the phone rings, it’s for ol’ crabby frank. i shout myself hoarse yelling for frank and say a few choice words in my head about old deaf guys and bowling alleys. i watch as frank’s face goes white and his eyes begin to water. “paul’s dead,” he says and hands me back the phone. blech! you could hear the hush fall over the men and watch as they all sadly shook their heads. it’s the second bowler we’ve lost this year. damn old men. . . i hate when you get attached to them.