Hopefully this thread will turn into a place to tell stories from your local rooms. They can be amazing, strange, unbelievable or otherwise. I rarely post, but witnessed something yesterday that made smile due to the sheer ridiculousness of it, that I have to post it.
I have to provide some background here to set the scene...
I am in my early thirties. I am a regular at my local pool room during the winter months. I play every Saturday and Sunday, from the hours of noon until 6pm. I also play a couple of times during the week after work, usually for about 3 hours each time. In the summer, I am golfing and only visit the pool room sporadically. I have been on a similar schedule, sometimes more frequent and sometimes less frequent since I was about 18. All of the regulars in this room know each other pretty well, and match up with the same guys all the time. I tend to purchase a beverage or three, and have lunch at the room once in a while so I tend to get along with the owner and their children, who work there.
On the weekend, we usually have 10-12 Gold Crowns and a couple Diamond Pro-Ams all lit up with games of one-pocket, golf on the 6x12 snooker table, two Verhoeven billiard tables running with 3 cushion being played, and at least one game of snooker going on one of the two 10 foot snooker tables. The owner's daughter is usually the only staff in the room until after 6pm. We are all regulars and can help ourselves to get a coffee, pour a water from the soda fountain, etc., but this girl literally runs around the room to try and take care of everyone and keep everything clean and ready for the evening crowd.
Of course there are always the typical type of pool room folks, and that's all fine with me and adds to the atmosphere. If I had to guess I am 30-40 years younger than the average regular, but we all get along for the most part. Now there are some folks there that tend to get on people's nerves and some that interact well with others, etc. This story is about the guy in our room that is the perpetual thorn in my side.
This guy is a decent player. We all know that. However, he is also a perpetual commentator, not only for every shot he hits, but every shot his opponent hits. I refuse to play with him because of that. I can't stand to hear him mumbling on and on. Its always "that was on until it hit the shim," "That was a skid," "I knew that was gong to happen but wanted to try it anyway," "I wondered why you didn't pick this other shot." It really never ends. I am sure we all have one of these guys in our rooms. I quietly take pleasure in any malevolence that befalls him. Lol.
Yesterday, he is on the table next to the one on which I am playing. He takes his Nick Varner cue from his case, and accidentally drops it from about chest high. It rattles off of his belly, against the edge of the table and bounces a couple of times off of the metal table legs before settling onto the carpet. Then I witness a strange sight. He pulls some wire cutters from his case and starts cranking on the pin. I can't tell what he is doing, but it is amusing. Thinking he is done making a commotion, I return to break the balls for my next game of one pocket with my father.
As I turn around, after breaking, I notice this guy has his cue put together and is heading outdoors. I am no genius, but I know that the majority of the tables are inside. Lol. I watch him as he turns his cue tip side down, at about a 45 degree angle, and starts grinding the tip on the pavement. Ok, I have heard old school guys talking about doing this. I know it has been done. But he has a severe bend going on with the shaft as he applies pressure. It just does not look good to me. My father and I share a good laugh at his expense as we watch him through the blinds out on the walkway.
When he returns, He extracts some sand paper and a green scotchbrite pad and starts hammering away on about a 4" section of the shaft near the ferrule. When the sanding dusts stops falling, and he appears to be satisfied with his work, I am able to get an eye on the cue. It's not pretty. Then the tip tapper comes out. At about that time, I decided it would be in my best interest just to try to ignore it.
During this entire process, the waitress (owner's daughter) is walking quickly around the room, cleaning and bringing coffees and teas. She is weaving in and out of the tables at certain times, like we all know she does, and has done for a while. Well, she is coming over to bring my beer and accidentally bumps this guy's cue with her foot as he has it resting on the floor tapping the tip. This causes him to lose his grip momentarily and the cue gently bumps the table near the joint area.
I know what's going to happen immediately, even as she profusely apologizes. He lets off on a rant that doesn't stop even after she is all the way behind the counter. "I can't believe people that own a pool room can't pay attention what they are doing... I can't believe she bumped my cue, she could have damaged it.. etc." This set me off into some serious laughter which angered him. "I said, hey man, she apologized, it wasn't on purpose." The rant continued.
Maybe this is one of those you had to have been there stories, but I really think he could have rolled his cue in from the parking lot and it wouldn't have made much difference.
Hopefully you guys can add stories or snippets that made you laugh at the irony, or whatever situation, and I can update them with some more stories from my archives, or real time as they happen.
***TL/DR***
Share your pool room stories that make you shake your head. A guy at my local room dropped his cue, used wire cutters on the pin, grinded the tip into the pavement, created sawdust with his sandpaper on the shaft, and then went ape on the owners daughter when she accidentally bumped into him, causing him to drop his cue against the rail, landing gently against the joint area.
Take care,
Nine.
I have to provide some background here to set the scene...
I am in my early thirties. I am a regular at my local pool room during the winter months. I play every Saturday and Sunday, from the hours of noon until 6pm. I also play a couple of times during the week after work, usually for about 3 hours each time. In the summer, I am golfing and only visit the pool room sporadically. I have been on a similar schedule, sometimes more frequent and sometimes less frequent since I was about 18. All of the regulars in this room know each other pretty well, and match up with the same guys all the time. I tend to purchase a beverage or three, and have lunch at the room once in a while so I tend to get along with the owner and their children, who work there.
On the weekend, we usually have 10-12 Gold Crowns and a couple Diamond Pro-Ams all lit up with games of one-pocket, golf on the 6x12 snooker table, two Verhoeven billiard tables running with 3 cushion being played, and at least one game of snooker going on one of the two 10 foot snooker tables. The owner's daughter is usually the only staff in the room until after 6pm. We are all regulars and can help ourselves to get a coffee, pour a water from the soda fountain, etc., but this girl literally runs around the room to try and take care of everyone and keep everything clean and ready for the evening crowd.
Of course there are always the typical type of pool room folks, and that's all fine with me and adds to the atmosphere. If I had to guess I am 30-40 years younger than the average regular, but we all get along for the most part. Now there are some folks there that tend to get on people's nerves and some that interact well with others, etc. This story is about the guy in our room that is the perpetual thorn in my side.
This guy is a decent player. We all know that. However, he is also a perpetual commentator, not only for every shot he hits, but every shot his opponent hits. I refuse to play with him because of that. I can't stand to hear him mumbling on and on. Its always "that was on until it hit the shim," "That was a skid," "I knew that was gong to happen but wanted to try it anyway," "I wondered why you didn't pick this other shot." It really never ends. I am sure we all have one of these guys in our rooms. I quietly take pleasure in any malevolence that befalls him. Lol.
Yesterday, he is on the table next to the one on which I am playing. He takes his Nick Varner cue from his case, and accidentally drops it from about chest high. It rattles off of his belly, against the edge of the table and bounces a couple of times off of the metal table legs before settling onto the carpet. Then I witness a strange sight. He pulls some wire cutters from his case and starts cranking on the pin. I can't tell what he is doing, but it is amusing. Thinking he is done making a commotion, I return to break the balls for my next game of one pocket with my father.
As I turn around, after breaking, I notice this guy has his cue put together and is heading outdoors. I am no genius, but I know that the majority of the tables are inside. Lol. I watch him as he turns his cue tip side down, at about a 45 degree angle, and starts grinding the tip on the pavement. Ok, I have heard old school guys talking about doing this. I know it has been done. But he has a severe bend going on with the shaft as he applies pressure. It just does not look good to me. My father and I share a good laugh at his expense as we watch him through the blinds out on the walkway.
When he returns, He extracts some sand paper and a green scotchbrite pad and starts hammering away on about a 4" section of the shaft near the ferrule. When the sanding dusts stops falling, and he appears to be satisfied with his work, I am able to get an eye on the cue. It's not pretty. Then the tip tapper comes out. At about that time, I decided it would be in my best interest just to try to ignore it.
During this entire process, the waitress (owner's daughter) is walking quickly around the room, cleaning and bringing coffees and teas. She is weaving in and out of the tables at certain times, like we all know she does, and has done for a while. Well, she is coming over to bring my beer and accidentally bumps this guy's cue with her foot as he has it resting on the floor tapping the tip. This causes him to lose his grip momentarily and the cue gently bumps the table near the joint area.
I know what's going to happen immediately, even as she profusely apologizes. He lets off on a rant that doesn't stop even after she is all the way behind the counter. "I can't believe people that own a pool room can't pay attention what they are doing... I can't believe she bumped my cue, she could have damaged it.. etc." This set me off into some serious laughter which angered him. "I said, hey man, she apologized, it wasn't on purpose." The rant continued.
Maybe this is one of those you had to have been there stories, but I really think he could have rolled his cue in from the parking lot and it wouldn't have made much difference.
Hopefully you guys can add stories or snippets that made you laugh at the irony, or whatever situation, and I can update them with some more stories from my archives, or real time as they happen.
***TL/DR***
Share your pool room stories that make you shake your head. A guy at my local room dropped his cue, used wire cutters on the pin, grinded the tip into the pavement, created sawdust with his sandpaper on the shaft, and then went ape on the owners daughter when she accidentally bumped into him, causing him to drop his cue against the rail, landing gently against the joint area.
Take care,
Nine.
Last edited:
:grin:
