Rock N Bowl

Thirty three like the Smashing Pumpkins song.. thats how old a good friend of mine was turning when she invited me out to a bowling alley/karaoke birthday celebration.. how could I turn that down?? I mean bowling alleys are like the equivalent of a lesbian bar right?
She told me to meet up at 915pm (which when you are in your thirties is like 2am)and although I really wanted to wear my Paulette Rubchuck gold pants I passed and went with a more forgiving pair of jeans.
After renting our neon green foot disease Velcro shoes I touched my first ball in years...I mean I usually avoid balls at all cost but I was willing to make an exception this one time because these balls looked clean, were blue, moist AND had holes that allowed me to place three fingers inside!! Heaven!
After a couple games we made our way to the "Strike" lounge to watch some karaoke, but first I had to stop in the alley's welcoming bathroom. I knew I should have walked on by when I saw what appeared to be a cum shot on the smokey glass portion of the door but no I went in anyway. My friend took stall number one, stall number two door was closed with a sign that read "out of order" so that left me with lucky number three. I really had to go at this point so I quickly locked the door, slipped my pants down and started to pee... ho hum... as the pee flowed I scanned the beautiful decor which included a penis drawing, a tulip in marker and oh whats this on my sneaker?? Oh just an ant... JUST A couple hundred FUCKING ANTS!!!! Looking at the floor I saw thousands were running all over the floor and covered the ENTIRE tampon disposal box!!! (see drawing) Stomping my feet and screaming I was outta there!!! Pants still down and all.. Oh Christ!!!! Since when did ants start eating bloody vag packers and not crumbs?? WTF??
No sooner did I exit my stall when I heard something skipping across the tile floor and my friend in stall number one say "OH SHIT!" The button on her jeans had just popped off and skipped across the floor of this shit hole room.. her favorite jeans so we had to find this fucking button and began searching every inch of this truck stop abode when A HA I see a dark colored object on the floor in the "out of order" stall... I alert her to my discovery, which she blindly reaches to pick up what appears to be her button... then she says "OH GOD... OH GOD it's not my button its a HAIRBALL!" CLASSIC!!
After she cut off the tainted hand we quickly walked through the dark alley passing a vending machine containing only socks, sweatbands, gloves and some type of balm?? Where are the condoms and who the fuck comes to this place??