During the almost five years I worked as a closer at a Wendy's, I put in a lot of nights. In 1988 I worked 323 nights out of 366 (1988 was a leap year). The next year, it was 324 nights out of 365.
Of the eighty-four nights I didn't work in those two years, very few of them were on a Saturday night.
I do remember taking January 23rd, 1988 off to celebrate my birthday with three of my co-workers.
My birthday is the 22nd of that month but I chose to work on it so I could spend the next night with the other three guys. We went bowling at a local alley. We played video games and shot a few games of pool while we were waiting for our reservation time for the two lanes I had booked.
We had a lot of fun that night.
Then, on another rare Saturday night off, I had no plans and wound up going to the same alley, which was about a fifteen minute walk from where I lived at the time. I had no lane reservation so I made one when I got there and was playing pool when I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.
It was my dad. He too, had reserved a lane but when he saw me, we decided to share one lane so he went back to the front desk and cancelled his reservation. When my name was called over the intercom, we racked the balls on the pool table for the next player and started bowling.
The first game was a friendly competition and I won it.
The second game was just the same, and Dad won it.
When we began the third game, any loving kindness of a father-son nature was out the window,
as the expression goes. There were no shared smiles, and no compliments for making a good throw.
I took an early lead, lost it and then regained it. In the final frame, I held a one pin lead. Dad
found himself looking at the dreaded 7-10 split, the hardest throw to make in bowling.
He made a perfect throw and won the game by one pin. I congratulated him and after I
took care of the bill at the front desk, I called a cab from a pay phone.
Dad, at the time, lived about five minutes away from me with his girlfriend, so we decided
to share the cab. What was supposed to be a fifteen minute wait stretched out for more than an hour.
During that time, we had one of the very best father-son talks we ever had.
I had paid for the lane and both shoe rentals, so Dad offered to pay for the cab.
The driver dropped me off at my apartment. I had a light dinner after showering and changing into clean clothes. I checked the TV Guide and there really wasn't anything on television that night
that I was interested in watching.
I decided to go see a movie.
I checked the listings in the newspaper and saw that the film playing at the theater just a few minutes away from my apartment was one that I wanted to see. The other theater, which was about a mile and a half away, was showing a film I had no interest in.
As I arrived at the movie theater, sure enough, Dad was in line.
His girlfriend had gone out to dinner with her brother and his wife so Dad had decided to go out again, just as I had. We sat together, of course. He paid for the tickets and I paid for the snacks.
When the film was over, we walked up Washington Avenue and crossed Main Street to get
a snack. We spent a half hour or so at Dunkin' Donuts and then said our goodbyes for the night.
That was just about thirty-one years ago, now, and it still stands as one of the best days I've ever had.
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