I Can’t Believe It’s Not Gutter report
by Adam Kuban
Last night I fell down in more ways than one in our weekly bowling league night.
I started bowling in season two of the league at The Gutter. It’s a hipster bowling alley and bar in Greenpoint. The folks who run it found an old warehouse space and a dingy street and did an amazing job of salvaging decommissioned lanes from somewhere in the Midwest and acquiring all the rec-room accoutrements that people of my age remember from their dad’s or granddad’s basements. If you’re hipster-cynical, it sounds like it could be too annoyingly cool, but it really is awesome.
Anyway, last night, we had a triple-header, and I stunk up the joint. I probably shouldn’t have rolled all three games. I think I’ll stick to two at most in the future.
Game 1: 103
Game 2: 126
Game 3: I didn’t note the score, but it was sub-100. Something like 86. Lame.
I totally fell down in that last game, after having literally fallen down, tripping over a pebble or something, while getting a Coke after Game 1.
I assured our teammates who had just joined us, Finn and Scott, that I wasn’t blotto and that I normally don’t fall down. Which prompted teammate John to say, “It’s a pretty sad state of affairs when people who know you say, ‘He didn’t fall down tonight.’” LOL.
Our team name is I Can’t Believe It’s Not Gutter. Which is awesome. John came up with that.
Related: The Gutter Opens [Gothamist]
