We went to the Comet last night after the play to shoot some pool and drink some beer.
In high school, we played pool three times a week at least. Bob's Billiards was the place, owned and operated by Bob himself, in his 50's and, we were sure, a pimp. We would drink our Coronas and watch as scantily clad girls went into the back room and come back out in a new and different skimpy outfit. And we didn't really have a problem with it; that's just what happens at Bob's.
(One night I wore my leather pants to the pool hall on a date with David, and was leaning over to make a shot when Bob came up behind me and smacked my ass. "Are those chaps?" "Er, no, just pants.")
We got to be pretty good, but my one failing in pool is my poor spatial skills. I just can't picture what's going to happen.
Last night I won, but it was the longest game in history. Neither one of us is very good.
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