On the Brooklyn Bowl, she encircled herself along with her liberated mates: artists, writers, organizers. They subbed out their footwear for bowling footwear and made their option to the lane the place Ms. Tamblyn ordered for everyone: French fries, a platter of fried hen, a effervescent cruet of macaroni and cheese. She switched to bourbon on the rocks and hefted a few balls for measurement.
Measurement didn’t matter. In her third spherical, a ball guttered on the left aspect for a change. “That was better,” Ms. Tamblyn mentioned with equanimity.
With the Jackson 5 enjoying, a number of of her mates supplied pointers. Paola Mendoza, a founding father of the Ladies’s March, observed that she was twisting her wrist and advised her to think about shaking somebody’s hand. “Don’t flail,” Priya Parker, the host of the Collectively Aside podcast, added. “And don’t let go too early.”
That additionally appeared like good life recommendation, as did “Don’t be afraid to use your strength,” which hasn’t been an issue for Ms. Tamblyn.
Nonetheless, Ms. Tamblyn should have listened. She downed six pins on her subsequent flip after which dropped towards the ground, twerking in celebration. She completed that first sport with a floor-grazing 38.
When the sport ended, Ms. Tamblyn turned to dancing, which she did with gusto, typically with hen in hand. She danced along with her mates and with out them, executing a couple of strikes atop the black sofa that confronted the road. When Questlove took a short break, she reached as much as his DJ sales space and hugged him lengthy and onerous.
“I deeply missed nights like this over the last year when everything felt so terrifying, and my body just wanted to get free,” Ms. Tamblyn mentioned. At 2 a.m., after one other sport wherein she very practically managed a spare, she rode house — liberated, free and with the leftover fried hen tucked right into a serviette.