“Good color,” you say, smiling at her. ”It fits you.”
With your ball picked out, you start to set the game up, putting yours and Dahl’s name into the computer system. It lights up and signals ready and you motion to the lane.
You smile a little in return. “Same to you, buck-o.”
When he ushers you forward to bowl, you chuckle. “I’m not much of a lady, y’know,” you comment, taking a few uncertain steps forward as you send the ball down the lane. It sort of wobbles along at a generally fast pace, but it only knocks down four pins. You’ve never claimed to be a good bowler.
That proves itself true even more when you hit the gutter. But you laugh anyway, because it’s kind of fun to be terrible. “Your turn!”