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Goodbye to the Roaring 20s

First, allow me to offer an explanation as to why I’ve been quieter than usual lately. A handful of people noticed two posts in July… posts which have since been removed. To those that didn’t read them, I will just say that I had no business posting something that personal about someone else, so I removed them. To those that did, know that things are better. The problem was that the experience left me “gun-shy” about posting again. I think that the best way to proceed is to pretend like it never happened and apologize to the person involved, as well as their family. And so we move on…
Recently, Strutter came up to me and said that her 20s were full of parting and drinking and generally unhealthy behavior, and that she was tired of it. She was going to start watching her diet, jog regularly, and become a bit of a Health Nazi.
For those individual who happen to be dating someone who is incredibly health conscious, it should come as no surprise that this lifestyle ends up being inflicted upon both partners in the relationship. I could stand to lose more weight and get back into shape, so I’m not opposed to focusing on health again, but I think I might just start hoarding some food away in case she gets even more strict.
This new health kick also meant a farewell to smoking and drinking. It’s not easy to quit either cold turkey, and people who do so often have to avoid situations/places/people that promote these activities. So for her 30th birthday, which was last Friday, we were trying to think of something “wholesome” to do. She suggested Frankie’s Fun Park. Go-karts, laser tag, putt-putt, video games, and a super slide? Sounded perfect. She invited four other couples along, all of whom are smokers. Sounded tempting…
Friday night, we got there early and grabbed food from the snack bar for our dinner. Looking at the prices on the menu, I realized that I had not prepared for the financial implications of the evening. Our friends began straggling in and one couple sent a text to say they couldn’t make it, and the party began. First stop: Skee-Ball!
In my late teens, I actually worked at Frankie’s Fun Park, and my biggest pet peeve was the hordes of children who would sprint from game to game with fistfuls of tickets that they could cash in for cheaply-made stuffed animals and worthless little plastic trinkets. My second biggest pet peeve was punk-ass children who would intentionally swerve to ram a go-kart that I happened to be pushing off the rail. (Little fuckers!) Anyway…
When Strutter screamed for Skee-Ball, I knew that the evening would turn into her running from game to game with fistfuls of tickets, and we would probably be driving home with a cheaply-made plush animal. I wasn’t wrong about that, but I was wrong in my expectation that it wouldn’t be fun. It was actually a blast. Even the no-skill games where you just spin a wheel and it lands on the number of tickets it pays out… crazy. We did take a short break from the ticket-hoarding to go outside and play a round of putt-putt. It was dark, so the temperatue had come down to the mid-nineties and the humidity was somewhere around two-hundred percent… so it wasn’t too bad…
Drenched in sweat, we returned to our ticket-gathering frenzy. For a small crowd of grown-ups mostly comprised of drinkers and smokers, I was surprised that everyone seemed to be having fun. I was even more surprised when it was past nine o’clock and people hadn’t left yet.
At the end of the night, we went to the prize counter with just under a thousand tickets, and Strutter got one cheaply-made plush alligator for each couple and a handful of worthless little plastic trinkets. (Although the pirate pouch full of little plastic gems made me think that a friend could use them in a board game he’s designing.) As we left, I totaled up the amount of money I’d spent and realized that it was still less than we would’ve spent if we’d gone to a bar.
So maybe I’ll stick with this healthy living thing…

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