Who Knew Bowling Alley Food Could Be Gourmet?

I once had a bowling date at an alley called Frames in Manhattan. I arrived first, and stood outside waiting for my date. While standing there, anxiously awaiting his arrival, I considered how much of a cafone I’d look like if he showed up to me eating a slice of pizza with the bouncer.

I thought about a little too much while longingly staring at the pizzeria across the street. He showed up ten minutes later, thank God, and made the decision for me.

“So I got the low-down about the food at this place,” I said, as we walked down the lobby of the building toward the elevator. “Apparently there’s a restaurant inside of the bowling alley. But you can also order food directly to your alley. The catch is that you can only order finger food – which I vote we do – because it’s supposed to be amazing.”

“Is it?” he asked, amused with my little bit of detective work.

“Yes, and I am very excited about that. But don’t be confused. I’d eat it if it was gross, too.”

“I bet you would,” he said, laughing.

We walked out of the elevator and had our first look at Frames. I swear, it was nicer than some restaurants I’ve been to. After we sat down to put on our monstrous bowling shoes, I looked over at the table we were sharing with the group bowling next yo you. There I saw tiny cheeseburger sliders, sweet potato fries, and chicken fingers with honey mustard. Hello.

I took one look at all that food and asked our neighbors if it was good. They said it was, but they didn’t have to. Their faces said it all.

I turned to my date and said, we are all over that.

Within five minutes, I had completely jocked their order and within twenty I was happily chomping along to the greatest bowling alley food I had ever experienced. I’m going to assume that the restaurant kitchen and alley kitchen are one in the same – thank the Lord.

The fries were the best skinny sweet potato fries I have ever had! The chicken finger was crunchy and delectable, perfectly colliding with the sweet, warm honey-mustard sauce. And the tiny cheeseburger had little slices of tomato for God’s sake!

Needless to say I immediately stopped bowling when the food came and focused all of my energy on finishing every last bite of my half. And, yes, he asked me out for a second date. Must have been the impressive 43 that I bowled. Boys love sports; and I am quite the athlete you know…

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