My brother has autism, loves to drink pop and loves to bowl.
Thursday night is bowling night. The lanes used to be run out of a full, warehouse-sized bowling hall. For most of its life it retained a musty, 1980s air to it, with faux wood paneling, yellowy carpet and blitzy arcade. There were even table-top arcade cabinets of Pac-Man and Dig Dug.
It recently, however, moved into a leased space of a former bingo hall. From 16 lanes down to 6. There’s barely enough room to move. Continue reading “Bowling Night”