Picture this. You emerge from your gold-encrusted throne, moving forth from your library ensconced with thousands of leather-bound books (all unread). Stepping out the front door, you call to your driver.
“Jeeves,” you beckon.
“Yes, Mr Penny Packer?”
“Let’s go bowling. But not your everyday, run-of-the-mill, plebian bowling. I’ve got 10,000 dollarydoos burning a hole in my pocket and there’s only one way I want to spend it. Let’s go to Pins Royale – the swankiest bowling facility in town.”
Unless you’re James Packer out to kill some time in between Very Important Meetings, you’ll probably find the idea of Crown’s new ultra high-end ten-pin bowling joint absolutely absurd. And that’s because it is. How the actual fuck dropping 10k for a couple rounds of bowling will result in a fun, chill experience – the sacred pillars on which bowling is built upon – is beyond me. This is it, Melbourne. We’ve cooked it. Put a fork in us. We’re done.
The balls are all gold (of course they are), the roof is dripping with hand-dipped gold cylinders (of course it is), and the kitchen is serving up freshly shucked oysters the entire time (what else?).
I hope they let you keep one of the pins at the end and get all your mates to sign it like the completely rad bowling birthday parties I went to as a kid. I miss those days.
