It’s hard to console a friend when he’s kicking your ass at ten-pin bowling. But here I am, tri-coloured sneakers on foot, $85 pitcher of beer in hand, watching Steve send down strike after strike at Olympian City’s Super Fun Bowl.

This bowling excursion is our attempt to discuss serious matters of the heart away from the grimy lure of Wan Chai’s bars. So far, it’s working.

As he nonchalantly sends the pins skittling turn after turn, Steve – sporting a nifty red sweat band around his head – pours the contents of his heavy heart on to the lacquered wood floors of Super Fun Bowl’s lanes. It’s the sort of stuff that makes the soul droop: a long-term relationship going bust; reluctant transition from taken man to nervous bachelor; a blow to confidence; loss of a trusted companion.

I do the best I can for Steve, knowing what I say will do little to take the sting out of a difficult situation. I strive to be philosophical anyway. Being newly single doesn’t have to suck that much, I say. “In a fucked up way, I always see a break-up as an opportunity. It’s an opportunity to see how you can get on by yourself for a while; totally free and independent.” Having a girlfriend is a wonderful thing, I proffer, but having the chance to be selfish and develop new friendships is pretty great too.

This gets us talking about the synthesis of happiness – not a concept we were clever enough to come up with ourselves, but one that was elucidated by the psychologist Dan Gilbert in a TED lecture we saw on YouTube. Gilbert says: “Human beings have something that we might think of as a psychological immune system. A system of cognitive processes, largely non-conscious cognitive processes, that help them change their views of the world, so that they can feel better about the worlds in which they find themselves.”

In short, we remarkable creatures can take a bad situation, make the best of it, and convince ourselves everything’s alright.

Take Pete Best, the drummer who was replaced by Ringo Starr in that rather successful 1960s rock group. Sure, he missed out on mega stardom, a lot of money, and gratuitous sex with underaged girls from the 60s, but he’s somehow okay with that. In fact, he has said: “I’m happier than I would have been with The Beatles”.

I try to convince Steve that the same applies to him. He feels shit now, and he will for a while yet, but the cloud will lift and the view later on won’t be that shabby. Ultimately, he’ll be happier without The Beatles.
Steve knows all that, but he’s in an emotional slump. No ration of rationality can be enough to overcome how low he’s feeling just yet. And so we pour ourselves another beer from the pitcher. Steve ambles up to the line and sends another ball screaming down the centre of the lane. Ten pins go down. By the time it’s my turn again, the machine would have picked them up and neatly stacked them back in place, ready to take another hit.

Super Fun Bowl, Shop 148, 1/F, Olympian City 2, West Kowloon, 2273 4773, superfunbowl.com.hk.
$34-$46 per adult per game.

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