Day 22: Pobject's hip flask

“Awright!” We’d gotten a matching set of simple silver flasks, one for each person on the team.

“Think I should get it engraved?”

For several months it was an adjunct of my ball, surreptitiously slid into the bowling bag alongside the towel and a spare pair of socks. Start with an ordinary large Sierra Mist, add a flaskful of anything 100 proof or stronger, and you’d have fuel for several hours’ worth of bowling.

We became practiced at pouring near our ankles, wondering when the management would get wind of our spiking. Generally one of us would block for another, running a red herring like Burt Reynolds did for Jerry Reed.

One night I let a friend sneak a shot from it as we were all milling about in the parking lot after the league had finished for the night. She coughed for several seconds after taking a too-big swig. “What is this?” she asked.

“Knob Creek bourbon.” Boo ya. She handed it back.

I later learned that the lanes’ managers sponsor free games for S.I.N. Leaguers on Monday nights during the off-season, as long as Monday’s bar take stays substantially higher than other nights’. That, and the fact that the bartender, Tyrone, is a great guy, made me feel bad about stiffing the bar.

I don’t bring the flask on Monday nights anymore.