Meyers-Briggs, Eat Your Heart Out [naomi]

There are a few places that are notorious for bringing out personalities. Take for example the lobby area of a long-delayed flight, where adults magically turn into two-year-olds before your very eyes. Or how about the great mixer of humanity: the Department of Licensing, where ‘equality’ turns out to mean ‘poor treatment for all’. My favorite, however, has got to be the bowling alley. People tend to slide into these nice little boxes when you get them into those stylish shoes. Observe, and see if you cannot recall most if not all of the following caricatures.

The cool killer. This is the guy (I’ve never seen a girl do this) who can throw the ball with that perfect curve which sends it right to the edge of the gutter, then swerves back just at the last moment to land a direct hit. Strike! Meanwhile the bowler, unconcerned with the ball once it has left his hand, casually turns to walk toward his friends, perhaps glancing over his shoulder to see all ten pins diving for safety from his killer curveball, and (this is very important), without breaking into a smile, lightly (not overly excitedly) smacks some high fives from his devastated and shell shocked companions (he may then possibly high five some people’s heads to make up for their lack of response). Then he sits down and continues whatever he was doing before the interruption. Bowling is an interest, but who cares? He’s got 20.

The passive-aggressive loser. He bowls the ball and watches it slide down the center of the lane only to curve at the last minute and send one solitary corner pin flying. He then clenches his fists, and turns around in one swift motion to face his companions. His face is stony, heartless, nearly murderous. He may possibly allow his eyes to roll back to indicate his utter disgust at his lousy performance. Bowling is a very serious game.

The commentator. There is one in every crowd. This is the guy who offers advice to other bowlers but inevitably can’t bowl a straight ball himself. He’s twice as annoying if he can bowl. The commentator usually ends up giving advice to the guy who looks like he’s going to murder someone, which the loser invariably finds “very helpful” and usually moves to a different position so that he can meditate on the advice given. Bowling is a chance for the commentator to show that even if he’s not winning, he knows how it should be done.

The feminist nazi bowler. She wants to win, or at least, she doesn’t want some guy to beat her, especially the commentator. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Bowling is a way of proving yourself, even if the rest of the people you’re with could care less.

The goof-off. This is the person who flat out sucks at bowling and knows it. So to amend this, they switch strategies and try to win in the area of entertainment instead, where the lane is the stage and you are the main act with a ready audience. At times it is possible to see a “passive-aggressive loser” look at his pitiful score, look at the other scores, then walk up to the lane, turn around, and chuck the ball backwards, grannying it between his legs. He has cut his losses and is trying for an alternate win. I have actually seen people’s scores improve by making the switch. Bowling is a game, and if you can’t score a strike, maybe you can score the number of the attractive cashier in the back, or at least some extra cheese on your nachos.

The wallflower. Quite often there is a person (usually a girl, no offense) who not only sucks at bowling but doesn’t really have any desire to embarrass herself in front of everybody else. She will usually sit on the sidelines, perhaps cheering here and there for strikes, perhaps not. She usually will appear fairly bored, or will keep preoccupied in conversation with someone else. If through some coaxing she is made to bowl, she will gingerly pick up the ball, tiptoe to the lane, awkwardly throw the thing, then wait for the ball to make the five minute trek down the lane where it politely knocks down a few pins. It will occasionally connect and make a strike where all the pins seem to fall down in slow motion, at which time the crowd roars and she turns around with a shocked and very pleased look on her face. Bowling is a risk, usually one that you’re not willing to make.

We could continue, but this is a very good place to stop.

You may be wondering what the moral of the story is. It is simply this: Don’t marry anyone until you’ve gone bowling with them. As the endearing Anne of Green Gables, said, "You have to summer and winter with any one before you know if she's LIVABLE or not." Which shows you two things: 1) that I can turn any article, even one about bowling, into a discussion about Anne of Green Gables, and 2) that you never know what will come out of a person until you have known them in many and different situations. Well said, Anne. Well said.