Amanda was later than usual getting to my apartment because of some kind of charity bowling tournament organized by one of the fraternities. They’d rented the alley and invited the sororities to participate, four girls to a team.

“How did it go?” I asked her.

“Okay, I guess. Our team won.”

“That’s terrific. You don’t seem especially overjoyed.”

Amanda shrugged. “It was for a good cause. It was fun, more or less. The frat guys certainly liked it.”

“I didn’t know you liked bowling,” I said.

Amanda shrugged again. “I’d never bowled before, but I missed a chapter meeting. It was your fault, actually.”

“How was it my fault?”

“That evening you wouldn’t let me leave your bed. So I missed chapter. So I got volunteered.”

“You must have done okay—your team won.”

“I got a six,” Amanda said. “Mostly I rolled gutter balls. But six was my raw score. My adjusted score was 69.”

I asked her how her score got adjusted.

“We have to bowl barefoot. That was the minimum requirement. But if you went bare elsewhere you got bonus points for each frame. One point for a bare top. Two points for a bare bottom.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I didn’t really want to be bare top or bottom, but after four frames I had a score of zero and the rest of the team insisted. Besides, almost everyone else was naked by then. If we’d known about the bonus points beforehand, they probably wouldn’t have picked me for the team.”

“Oh? Why was that?”

“Because you got extra bonus points depending on your breast size. The smallest was ‘squashed ping-pong ball’ worth one point. Then it went golf ball, baseball, softball, and bowling ball. They said I was golf ball, but I think I’m more baseball.”

“Definitely more baseball,” I agreed.

“It didn’t really matter,” Amanda said, “because we had Martha Grocheuss. She’s like six foot two and she could practically throw the ball all the way to the pins. And she’s got boobs the size of bowling balls. She had a raw score of 37, but her adjusted score was 386.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Better than a perfect game.”

Amanda shrugged. The shrug pushed Amanda’s breasts together. I had to hold them. I had to try pressing them together.

“Are you wishing I had bigger boobs?”

“No way,” I said. “I’m not really into bowling. Baseball’s more my game. Tonight I think we should practice the squeeze bunt.”