Cleo, Bowling, and Lessons to be Learnt

This week’s Trifecta Challenge is to use the word ‘turkey’ in a 33-333 word piece, using the definition ‘three successive strikes in bowling’. Check out the other entries at http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/.

Cleo was a bitch.

A show-off.

A know-all.

She should have been more careful about who she was so eager to make friends with.

I first met Cleo when I moved to London. I’d just gotten my first admin job, and we were to share a desk. No sooner had I got out a pen and located the kettle, than she suggested a trip out to get to know each other. Bowling. To me, bowling was for ten year-olds. The sweaty shoes, the slush puppies, the obligatory turn on the dodgems? Not for me.

But, I was kind of desperate for new friends. I had to leave my last village in a bit of a hurry, you see. Rumours were beginning to get out of hand.

I was useless at bowling. But I have to say I was pretty chuffed with my double strike. And yet in what was to become typical Cleo fashion, she had to go one better. And then proceed to tell me that three strikes in a row are called ‘a turkey’. Who even knows that for Christ’s sake?! I should have known it was a sign of things to come…

I don’t know who she was trying to impress, but it wasn’t working on me.

She was constantly shoving something in my face. A new Chanel bag, a new convertible Mini, a new super-perfect boyfriend. Always going one better than everybody else. Always knowing the answer to everything. Always being right. And basically just being an annoying bitch.

It turns out Cleo should have been careful who she was trying to impress. Those rumours in my last village?

‘Evil.’

‘Witch.’

‘Killer.’

‘Murderer.’

After a few months, I suggested a bowling re-match.

It’s amazing what damage a bowling ball can do.

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