lucky strike lanes

date: august 25, 2005
bet: what time is it right now?
stakes: lunch
winner: mason
loser: olive
destination: lucky strike lanes (322 east illinois)
cost: $40

mason: 1) i've been told i'm too longwinded. 2) accordingly... 3) the changes and may or may not at schuba's approximately one week before this lunch took place.

m: hey what time is it?
o: what time do you think it is?
m: i don't know. around midnight?
o: no way. it's more like 11.
m: want to bet on it?
o: yes.
m: okay, then what time do you think it is right this second?
o: 11:12
m: no, i think it's 11:13.
o: okay, let's see (check phone). eff!

the rest is his story. but not really. it's history. his story is just how olive tends to say things. like mittens. they're not mittens to her. they're mit-tens. two words. not one. but there goes my wind again, getting all long and what not. i will stop that. now.

so i won the bet. what's more, it was actually exactly 11:13, but bragging is not my style.

my prize lunch took place at lucky strike lanes, which is the new, ultra-muscular and veiny arm of the AMC on illinois and near the lake or navy pier or whatever. i had chicken strips and they were great. and what i mean by "great" is "accompanied by at least four outstanding dipping sauces." if you ask me, you should be able to order dipping sauces and then have the to-be-dipped item come on the side. cause i'll dip anything. even this blog.

the service was negligible, cause we were bowling. it was probably good, though, cause we had a female server for once, who must have been straight cause she didn't flirt with olive at all.

anyway, something interesting happened during this lunch. call it a bet within a bet. or call it whatever you want. wait, remember taming of the shrew? perhaps not. but if you get the chance, read the first act. you'll be like, "um, where's the shrew and what the hell does this have to do with any type of taming of said shrew?" that's because the play starts with people who go to see a play. the play that they see is the shrew-ridden one. and then they disappear for the remainder of the play cause they're watching it, just like you're reading it. and when those people come back at the end of the play you're like "oh yeah, those guys. i remember them," but you really don't even give a care.

so this bet within a bet set the stage for a pretty interesting next few bets. and in the interest of keeping my wind short (i ain't no baller this post), i pass the qwerty torch to olive.

olive: first and foremost, we all know that mason only won this bet because i guessed the time first. i happen to have an incredible internal clock and can usually guess the time quite accurately without consulting a time-keeping device. now, i am convinced that mason used this to his advantage and delayed his guess so that my correct answer would have expired, but being the good sport that i am, i let it go (and let's face it, mason's a bit of crier and probably would have spent the rest of the night weeping if i didn't just let him win).

and now, because you're dying to know, the bet that was made during the bet lunch was who would win the game of bowling. simmer down though, because I'm not telling who won.

i must say that lucky strike is quite cool. it is filled with couches, pool tables, bar areas, tables, flat screen tvs, bowling lanes and large jugs of candy. FREE CANDY!!! one could keep themself entertained at this place for hours upon hours. though i suspect that during the night hours, it is also filled with douchebags. and that's not cool.

anyway, i ordered a cheeseburger, which is unusual for me because i rarely eat red meat. but on this particular day, i had a hankering. the burger was okay, but it was a little over-cooked. i had to load it up with available condiments to get over the too-well-doneness of it and i only ate about half of it. the french fries, however, were very crispy and tasty.

also, the food didn't arrive until we had already finished our game, which i suppose would have been okay, except for the fact that we were trying to squeeze in a game and a lunch during our standard lunch hour.

the atmosphere alone made this lunch outing well worthwhile. the place was practically ours. i mean, who's bowling downtown on a thursday lunch hour? we are. and the best part was that when we returned to the office, we didn't tell anyone, so i was able to bask in the fact that we had secretly been lunching and bowling, while others were probably enjoying their lunch of yesterday's leftovers while perusing the internet at their desks. ha ha!

mason: similar to my tendency to cry, olive tends to lie. and i dedicate that rhyme to the shakepearian reference above. just like rules are rules, 11:13 is 11:13. don't argue with god, the keeper of time. in fact, dude invented time. this god. or whoever. not sure how he/she/it likes to be addressed. my family calls him something like "according to whom i will raise my offspring," but i hate that band. i'd like to keep them separated.

so for your viewing pleasure, i present identity clue #1, which took place just seconds ago during olive's testimony. this will become a common practice: