Not That Kind of Pool

A buddy of mine and I were shooting pool last night. We were sharing a table with some lovely ladies we meet there quite often. I guess you could call them pool friends. Anyway, I was on my way to the restroom and walked by the foose ball table. There wasn’t anyone around it. But one of the handles was pushed all the way in on the far side, which made the long steel piece stick all the way out on the side I was walking by. I was about to run into it. So I reached out and slapped it in on my way by. So I wouldn’t impale myself on the foose ball table, you see.

And I hear this, “what the hell!” really loud. I looked over, still walking, of course, and see a guy standing there with his hands out. “Oh, sorry, chief. Didn’t know you guys were playing,” I said, and went into the lav. After I finished I returned to my pool table. And after about three minutes, I’m leaning over the table, about to make a four-rail bank shot on the nine. And dude walks up and makes a big show of scattering all the balls on the table, then stands there with his hands out again. Staring at me.

So I stood up straight and set my cue down. “Okay, that was freakin’ mature. Can we not act a little more like adults?” I said. But Stephanie stood up at this point and started shouting at him. She was laying down the threats and getting in his face and all that. I thought she was going to break her cue across this guy’s nose. And I was hoping there was about to be a mini-brawl in our corner of the pool hall. Exciting! Well, after a minute the dude apologizes and turns to walk away.

Steph picked up the closest ball to her and threw it at the guy. I guess she meant to hit him in the back of the head. But she missed. I think she was a little lit up. She missed by like nine feet. And the ball sailed right by this guy (which is to say it wasn’t anywhere near him) and landed square in the middle of another pool table, bouncing hard and knocking several of their balls out of line. So another “what the hell!” sounds off from that table. The ball bounced off that table and rolled all the way over to the tile area, where a waitress stepped on it and twisted her ankle, dropping her tray of beers. Good Lord.

Fortunately, that particular waitress is a friend of ours. So we didn’t have to leave. But the bouncer finally came over and I told him what had happened. He ended up dragging mister fooseball out of the bar, which was cool. I was secretly hoping he would wait for me in the parking lot though, which he didn’t.

Anyway, what started out being a somewhat normal night of pool, ended up being an event. I’m not sure it happened exactly the way I told it. I may be sketchy on a couple of the small details (like the fact that any of it happened at all) but I’m pretty sure that’s what happened last night. I have bad memory when I’ve been drinking, you know.

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5 Responses

  1. Memory is mostly controlled by the quanity of drink as opposed to quality. If you were sipping shots I suggest you’re probably fairly accurate. Slugging down shots with beer chasers tends to make a recall hazy.

  2. Becky Riles says:

    I’m dying to know how much of that is made up! You’re crazy.

  3. steppy says:

    Great story Space! If only I had that in me. :)

  4. Jeremy says:

    Any woman who throws pool balls at men is a woman to be recokned with in my book!

  5. Anonymous says:

    She sounds crazy dude. Id keep my distance from that one.

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