Because I’ve told it too many times, on a just about yearly basis. In hopes that I might purge the fear that arrives just after Thanksgiving, as if delivered on time by UPS.
There’ll be a black Crown Vic parked outside my place. Inside will reside a couple of swarthy looking gents. On the dashboard will be a couple of cups of Keurig espresso, a half eaten cannoli and baklava crumbs. As well as a black cloth bag, which appears from the outline to contain a Glock.
It’s Guido and Hassan, or some variation of their ilk, Joey the Vig’s associates. Come to make sure I enter The Vig’s bowl pool, which annual endeavor lines his already abundantly full pockets, and provides him enough amusement through to the first of the year, when he and his adored “bride” head to the Seychelles for the winter.
Oddly, and surprisingly, this year’s been different.
Imagine my surprise. As the two-times in a row double defending champion, I was expecting a squadron, including fellows rappelling down the side of my condo complex to my otherwise inaccessible porch.
Instead: Squadoosh. Continue reading Fun is Bowling: Joey the Vig Season