And earlier in the day, before we all met at the bowling alley, I sent a text to one of the bowlers asking if he wanted to make a lil’ wager.
I was kidding, really, but he asked what kind, and without thinking, I texted back that we should bet our immortal souls. Whoever won would get the the other’s soul.
It was good for a laugh but sometimes I forget that not everyone appreciates such irreverent (some would call it blasphemy) humor, and when we finally did meet at the bowling alley, Mr. DJ tried to change the bet to lunch-for-a-week, whoever lost had to buy the winner lunch for a week, but by that point, I was pretty committed to possessing someone else’s soul, so we bowled and I won, both games.
I won’t tell you the score because it wasn’t high, but I happened to be bowling with people who didn’t bowl much growing up. I grew up in southwest Missouri and if you didn’t roller-skate, all that was left to you — beyond the sinful and illegal things — was bowling. So I bowled, with my church youth group, with my father when he came home for a visit, with friends from school.
I once bowled a 186, but not last night. Still, my score was good enough to win my friend’s soul. He seemed a little nervous about what I would do with it, so I told him I would only keep it for a week, and in that time I would dump all my sins onto it so that I could walk around sin-free for seven whole days — my longest sin-free time ever unless you count my infancy and I don’t. (Members of my tribe don’t buy into original sin, so when a baby is born, she comes into the world spotless. The spotting happens later.)
I don’t know what you to kill time last time; I went Bowling For Souls. But beyond transferring my sins onto my auxiliary soul, I’m not sure what else to do with it. I don’t really want to do that, anyway, because his soul never did a mean thing to me, not once. If you have any suggestions for my use of the spare soul, I’ll take them.
Dating Jesus 
Haha I sooo know what you mean about there being nothing to do besides skating or bowling, or going to the lake, etc. I was on a bowling league for a couple of years when I was nine and ten. I have all this random knowledge of how to bowl “properly” and rack up points, haha. Whenever we used to go to the bowling alley for PE every other Friday in elementary school, the people at my lane were always like “wtf?” because I was a total geek, yet here I was kicking ass at bowling. Skillz.
Jesus taught you to bowl. Coulda told ’em that. Scared the crap outta ’em.
I don’t know how this sort of thing works, but I’m not sure you ended up with the better end of the deal. It seems like a big responsibility to be carrying around another person’s soul for a week. Does that mean your friend does whatever he pleases without it marring his soul? What does he do, now that he’s soulless for a week? Or, does he become your puppet? If he’s your puppet, then you could could have lots of fun with that. Now I get it. The one who holds the soul controls the body, right? That’s awesome!
You had a better end to your weekend for sure. I ended up with a sore hip/knee from all of the weekend’s walking and you ended up with an extra soul!
I bowled my best around 6-10 years ago when I played with my kids using the bumpers.
We should have used bumpers. That would improved just about everyone’s score, as all of us guttered at least twice last night. I don’t want a puppet and now I think betting for a soul was dumb. I can’t just dump my sins on his soul because he’s a really nice guy and so now I have an extra entity to take care of for a whole week and I was planning on barely taking care of myself.
Quick, before he realizes that it’s a burden to you, trade the soul in for lunches for a week. Let him think you’re doing him a favor.
I made a pretty convincing ass of myself convincing him to give me his soul, instead. I’m having HUGE buyer’s remorse.
This is making me laugh! If you figure out something fun, let us know.
He came in today (the soul-less friend of mine, who is also a work colleague) not too happy about the trade. I feel bad but a bet’s a bet.
That’s something! Now don’t get all mushy and guilty feeling about it and buy HIM lunch.
Nope. But I did bring in left-over pizza and shared it.
You are too kind (and consider who’s saying this).
What’s a soul?
See why I don’t bowl with you? What would we bet?
I thought you wouldn’t bowl with me because I’m such a crappy bowler. I’m relieved.
What’s a soul?
Be careful what you ask for–you just might get it!
I know exactly what you mean about bowling and roller skating. I could bowl a passable game, but I was marginally better at roller-skating. This was old-fashioned skating, not the in-line kind that ice skaters favor. I never even saw an ice-skating rink until I was an adult, but my sister used to hop on a bus and go to the one and only ice skating rink in Dallas when she was a teen.
It’s an odd talent to possess, yes? But I’m glad I have it.
There’s a Simpson’s episode about this. Bart sells his soul to Milhouse.
There is nothing new under the sun, is there?
You could trade it to the devil for the ability to play blues guitar like Robert Johnson.
“”You could trade it to the devil for the ability to play blues guitar …”
Yeah! Better than losing your OWN soul! (Whatever that is…)
Why didn’t I think of that? Me and the blues guitar. That just sounds right. My problem is I only have it for a week, his soul, and I’d feel obligated to go get it back after a week’s up.
I can’t wait to see the YouTube videos!