First of all, you’ll want to walk straight out of the alley, brushing aside the women who gathered to watch you make history and the men who were crossing their fingers behind their beers, hoping you’d leave the ninth pin standing.
Forget these people.
They have witnessed something that they will never understand, not even as they play your last roll in their head while stuffing turkeys and changing tires and mending trousers for their loved ones. They were there, right there, and even they have no words for what just happened.
Leave them behind. Your husband too.
He’ll think he had something to do with it, with your single-handed perfection on an uneven lane. But what has he done besides envy your talent and say disheartening words about your mother (god bless her) and your brother with the credit card debts?
You get in your truck and head to Branson, MO, where people know how to handle a woman like you.
