At the Brooklyn Bowl, she surrounds herself with her freed friends: artists, writers, organizers. They replaced their shoes with bowling shoes and made their way to the aisle where Ms Tamblyn ordered for everyone: fries, a plate of fried chicken, a bubbling cruet of macaroni and cheese. She switched to bourbon on the rocks and lifted a few balls for the waist.
Size didn’t matter. In his third turn, a bullet sank to the left side to change. “It was better,” Ms. Tamblyn said calmly.
With the Jackson 5 playing, several of his friends provided advice. Paola Mendoza, founder of the Women’s March, noticed that she was twisting her wrist and told her to imagine shaking someone’s hand. “Don’t fight,” added Priya Parker, host of the Together Apart podcast. “And don’t give up too soon.
It also seemed like good life advice, as did “Don’t be afraid to use your strength,” which wasn’t a problem for Ms. Tamblyn.
Yet Mrs. Tamblyn must have listened. She knocked down six pins on her next turn, then fell to the ground, twerk in celebration. She finished this first game with a 38 low to the ground.
At the end of the game, Ms. Tamblyn turned to dancing, which she enthusiastically did, sometimes with chicken in her hand. She danced with her friends and without them, performing a few movements on the black sofa that faced the line. When Questlove took a brief break, she reached her DJ booth and hugged him long and hard.
“Nights like this have missed me deeply over the past year when everything was so terrifying and my body just wanted to break free,” Ms. Tamblyn said. At 2 a.m., after another match in which she almost managed to win a spare, she returned home – free, free, and with the leftover fried chicken tucked away in a towel.