aspen blair chanel > > > FU
monday, january twenty-third.
style: classic tweed.
hair: down and wavy.
with: D, mr. chanel and peter.
venue: // twenty-third. – free day.
“i didn’t think ‘family fun night’ was back in effect,” complained a blind Peter.
“where are we going, Penny?” my father asked, stumbling around like a mummy with his blindfold.
“seriously Aspen,” Darcy chimed, trying to feel her way around. “i can’t believe you roped us into wearing blindfolds… literally!” she said, tugging on a rope they were tethered to.
i shrugged, pulling on the rope as we neared the entrance to the bowling ally. “trust me you three blind mice, you’re gonna love it.”
“i just wish we knew what ‘it’ is, huh son?” my father muttered, nudging Darcy’s stomach.
she turned to him, although blind, and corrected in a monotone, “i’m Darcy.”
he slapped his forehead. “yeeaaah, and that’s why Peter suddenly grew all that frizzy hair. got it.”
“watch your step,” i warned, stepping onto the curb, proudly guiding their leash.
and of course, they all immediately tripped over the step.
i winced, slowly looking back to survey the damage. “you can’t sue me… i gave you fair warning…”
“yeah,” spits Peter. “we fell half way, you warned us, and we expected the ground. very fair. lemme help ya, dad,” Peter said, lifting Darcy off the asphalt.
she turned to him, blindfolded and frazzled and corrected in a monotone, “i’m Darcy.”
he flinched for a moment before conjuring up all his courage and saying, “and that’s why my dad suddenly lost weight. yeaaah.”
“pff,” i scoffed, watching Darcy dust her clothes off as Peter helped my dad. “we all know you just wanted to touch her.”
“right, and now my fist wants to touch your face!” Peter threatened.
i scanned my nails then glanced at the three blind people attached to a rope. “yeah… i think my bunny slippers just ran for cover.”
“did you steal that line from Sammy?” Darcy asked, turning her blind attention towards Peter.
“real macho, Pete,” i confessed with sarcasm written on my face although none of them could spot it. “you’re in no position to make threats,” i said, plucking the rope. “especially since you’ll probably end up punching Dad or D.”
they both immediately took a step away from Peter.
“okay, c’mon!” i commanded, jerking ruthlessly and they all lurched forward.
“yeesh,” my father voiced. “we’ve got a mean cattle-driver. i smell… pizza? in front of us!” my dad shouted in delight.
i led them into the bowling ally with a wide, proud, grin spread across my lips. “do you also smell the smell of sweaty shoes?”
Darcy nodded, scrunching her nose. “and shoe freshener that obviously isn’t working.”
“and manly men,” Peter chimed, fanning the smell away with his hand. “where the hell are we, Pen?”
“take off your blindfolds!” i chirped, watching them remove their blindfolds.
after a few blinks they adjusted to the light and realized the venue. my grin became wider—if possible—and i threw my arms around my dad and Darcy. “a bowling ally!” i presented proudly.
“a bowling ally,” my dad said with a few nods of approval as he scanned the perimeter.
“a bowling ally?” Darcy chirruped with a happy, playful smile.
“a /bowling ally/,” Peter said heavily weighing with disbelief.
“i know! a bowling ally!” i confirmed before a brief nod. “i already reserved two lanes for us… so let’s grab our bowling balls and—”
“Aspen,” Peter interjected. “you do know what /bowling is/, don’t you?”
“of course i do. you have a heavy ball and you roll it down a long lane and you knock down ten pins… oh, and you /do not/ wear the rental shoes – i think they’re infected with foot fungus.”
“enlightening,” replied Peter, jumping from the rentals to my attire. “is that why you’re wearing those shoes?”
“it’s necessary that i obtain the proper height so my ball can receive the right amount of air to reach a certain amount of energy that will result in a strike. /der/.”
“got this down to a science, huh?” Peter teased.
i pushed him back, peering out at Darcy and my dad. “so i thought we could play in teams, me and D against you boys.”
Darcy gave me a bear hug while chanting, “we gunna kick yo a/ss! we gunna kick yo a/ss we gunna—”
“whoa, whoa, whoa,” interrupted Peter in a fury. “that’s not fair.”
i pulled Darcy off of my neck, crossed my arms, and retorted. “yes it is. you can come up with some witty slogan too – it just so happens that ours rocks.”
“i mean you two have bowled before… dad and i haven’t.”
Darcy and i fell into a flurry of snickers. “you’ve never bowled before?” i sang, punching him playfully.
“even /Aspen/ has bowled!” chimed Darcy.
he ignored our goading and continued, “we should have one of you and one of us versus the other two.”
his arm shot into the air as my father shouted aggressively, “I CALL PENNY!”
we slowly turned towards my dad, arm still in air, and stared unfathomably.
“what?” he said, dusting off our gazes and lowering his arm. “she’s got this game down to a science,” he defended, motioning to me.
i stepped over to my dad’s side before we broke out, “we gunno kick yo a/ss! we gunno kick yo a/ss! yeah we gunno—”
“but i didn’t want Darcy!” complained Peter.
Darcy stepped closer to Peter with a repugnant grimace. “i’m Darcy, and i can hear you. i’m also your teammate.”
“i know you’re Darcy; you have the frizzy hair and the skinny body. look, i think we should flip a coin or something to determine the teams.”
“a coin?” retorted Darcy. “i’m worth a coin to you?”
“what? of course not. you’re worth heads or tails on a coin to me”
“what—i—are you serious?!” Darcy sputtered.
“oh stop bickering you two,” my dad ordered. “just play the game. besides, losers have to pay for dinner,” my dad announced, skipping towards the bowling balls.
“and quit being a baby, Pete,” i scolded, following my dad and picking one with him.
Darcy and Peter trudged along after a few moments, picked out their bowling balls and arrived at our lane.
“we’ll go first,” i offered, waddling up to the lane before throwing the ball into the air, it landing with a magnificent thump, followed by the fall of ten pins. i whirled around with a smug, satisfied smile playing on my lips. “it’s my lucky Louboutins.”
my dad stepped up behind me, mid-way high-fiving our current lead. “told ya she has it down to a science,” he proclaimed, rolling his ball twice and nabbing us a spare.
“i’ll go first, okay?” Peter basically stated, grabbing his bowling ball.
“yeah, ‘cause you’re obsessed with being number one,” Darcy muttered, crossing her arms.
“are you really going to start this fight?” Peter asked after slowly turning around. “you can go first then if you’re gonna let some petty—”
“you’re ruining my vibes,” i hissed bitterly, giving them terse daggers. “so how about we raise the stakes – /losers have to walk home/. get your team together or trudge seven miles. deal?”
“problem solving within a bet,” my dad trilled, nodding with approval. “good one, Penny, you must be related to me.”
“only by marriage, pops.”
“good one Pens,” my dad said, nudging me playfully. “Darce, you’re up!”
she danced to the lane, intentionally shoulder-ramming Peter along the way. she rolled, flattening all ten pins. “boo-ya!” she shouted, doing a series of bad dance moves in front of my dad and i.
“dad,” i said, my voiced laced with alarm. “i’m not walking seven miles in these heels…”
“leave it to Peter,” my dad whispered back. Peter passed us, sending scathing glares at us as we broke into a sugary smile.
he rolled and received a gutter ball.
he rolled again and received another gutter ball.
“what!?” he shouted. “i thought we decided to play with gutters up!”
“yeaaahh,” i started, picking up my bowling ball. “you should’ve realized we weren’t after that first gutter ball, Pete… me and dad have decided to eat out at ‘Dukes’ so… yeah, have fun walking home.”
our turn went by quickly, giving us a twenty-nine point lead.
“so Aspen,” Darcy said, during Peter’s turn. “how’d you hear about bowling?”
Peter trudged back after trampling two pins. “yeah, since when do you hang out in a place that smells like rotten shoes?”
“ever since i found out i have a gift!” i said quickly, grabbing my bowling ball and toddling to the lane, brushing the their question aside.
my dad switched places with me as i returned to a suspicious Peter and Darcy. “no really,” said Darcy. “you and bowling don’t add up. and frankly, you wouldn’t come here on a whim and bowl… so who tipped you off?”
“why does it matter how i came around to bowling?”
“because it’s /you/, Apsen,” Darcy noted. “/you/ don’t bowl. this was the last place i thought you’d take us to.”
“people are full of surprises,” i generalized, tightening my lips.
“oooooh,” Peter sang jestingly. “Aspen’s gotta a new /booooyfriiiiiend/.”
“does she?” my dad rang in. “oooh, this is juicy.”
“your turn, D!” i announced, pushing her bowling ball into her stomach and herding her to the lane.
she whirled around with a mischievous smile. “is that why you’re so happy today?”
“ha. ha. ha. funny… you know what else is funny, D? the score! we’re creaming you!” i tottered back to Pete and my dad who were both snickering about something. “what?”
“nothing,” my dad said oppressing a smile and averting his gaze.
“seriously, what?” i repeated.
Darcy leapt back. “so who is it?” she asked me, although she faced my dad and brother.
“well /i/ think,” my dad started. “that her new boyfriend /works here/.”
a round of ‘oooooh’s’ went around our circle. “she does have a thing for hanging around guys of the lower class,” Peter said, referring to Samuel the barista.
“shut up,” i spat.
“ooooh!” Darcy observed. “aggressive. he must be on duty.”
“is it him, Pen?” my dad asked, motioning to the teenage janitor. “i’m not judging your choice in guys, but… i think you could do better than that acne covered kid.”
“i am single!” i proclaimed, exchanging glare with them.
“okay,” said Peter nonchalantly. “but what’s his name?”
“no body!” i yelled as they burst into a flurry of sniggers. “oh, please. it’s your turn,” i said to Peter, throwing his bowling ball into his hands.
“ow,” he muttered, grabbing his ball and plodding to the ally.
i turned back to Darcy and my dad. “Penny,” my dad began. “does he get good discounts here?”
“i’ve never talked to him! i’ve only been here once! i—i—i’m sinlge!”
Darcy’s giggles faded so she could utter, “once is enough, huh?” and added a wink.
“whaddi miss?” Peter asked, jogging back.
i slapped the side of his head, fumed, “i’m single,” and marched off with my bowling ball. when i returned they were still in a giggly uproar.
“your butt looked a bit big from our angle, Penny,” Peter explained. “i hope it looked smaller from /his/ angle.” he motioned to the janitor.
i sighed in frustration, placing my hands on my hips in a growing rage.
“okay, i’m sorry, A,” Darcy apologized. “just tell us who referred you here.”
they were silent, waiting for my answer.
my eyes skipped from one to the other.
i finally managed, “…a friend… he took me here about four days ago.”
“SO IT IS A BOYFRIEND!” my dad shouted in glee as the giggles erupted again.
“IT’S A /BOY/ AND IT’S A /FRIEND/, HE’S NOT A /BOYFRIEND/.”
“so you’re saying he’s your boy friend?” Peter clarified.
“he’s not my boyfriend!” i denied.
“so he /is/ your boyfriend?” Darcy said shakily.
“no way! he’s a boy and he’s a friend!”
“that’s what i said,” muttered Peter. “/boy friend/.”
i threw my hands into the air in frustration. “forget it.”
a long pause sprang in our circle before my dad rejoined, “so what’s his name?”
“it’s your turn, Dad,” i said with a boil.
he laughed as he trotted to the lane, muttering nonsense like, “boy friend boyfriend… hah. that’s a good one…”
“zip it,” i said, turning back to Darcy and Peter.
“you know you suck, right?” i told Peter after the ninth round where the score was 176 to 76.
“shut up,” he mumbled, picking up his ball and knocking the a single pin down.
176 to 77.
they might win this.
Darcy and i crossed our arms, examining Pete’s form. “yeah,” i agreed with Darcy. “he /is/ too tall. yo, Petey, me and D here think you’re too tall. the ideal bowling height is 5’9’’ to 5’11’’… you’re 6’1’’.”
“that /must/ be the problem,” by dad added sarcastically. “cause i’m 5’11. sorry, Pete, but i think you can cross ‘bowler’ off your résumé.”
“it doesn’t help that you’re a natural, dad,” i gushed, hugging my dad.
he patted my head before replying, “runs in the family; by only be marriage.”
we broke into a loud boisterous guffaw and my father pulled Darcy into the circle of laughter. “that Peter,” she said, slapping my arm jokingly.
then i, my father, darcy, and peter rolled the last inning.
the final score was 194 to 88.
“i love when we get together and beat you two,” my father rejoiced, wrapping his arms around Pete and Darcy. “you guys… you guys… just… just… have this chemistry that makes it… what’s the phrase i’m looking for, Pen?”
“you two suck.”
“yep, that’s the one,” my dad confirmed.
“well, our work here is done, right, Pops?” i asked my dad, mirroring his smug grin. “i’ve built up quite the appetite bowling, Pops, shall we go?”
“why, yes, daughter, we shall!”
i linked arms with my dad before turning to Peter and Darcy, “we’ll send you the check, okay? have fun walking home.”
we marched out, continuing our triumph and laughing at our victory.
> > > aspen.