I went back up to the counter to retrieve my ID, and was asked if we still wanted the lane. The bowling alley was extremely busy, and we figured it would be a while before we played. We waited another ten minutes but then decided to call it. This time though, her question was interrupted by the employee who bluntly said, “Oh, you’re with that other woman who was just up here.” He then continued to explain that he had already told my mom that the wait was uncertain, and brushed her off with an aloof explanation that we would be called when a lane was ready. My aunt returned 15 minutes later to ask how the wait was looking. After 30 minutes, my mom returned to the counter to ask when the next lane would be available, and the person behind the counter said another 15 to 20 minutes.
My family arrived in the evening to bowl, and was informed that we would be added to a waitlist that would take 20 to 30 minutes. That being said, this exchange does not entitle employees to respond to potential patrons with the indignation, crassness, and cliché machismo of a petulant teenage boy. With a packed house, it’s hard to predict how long parties will have to wait for a lane, and even harder for employees to provide accurate predictions of delay times while also accommodating impatient or rowdy bowlers. 7:30 on a Saturday night at a bowling alley without a reservation is a precarious situation for everyone.
