If you live in the SouthWest beware of this HUSTLER.

maha said:
the old viscene eye drops worked wonders for that or just a small shot of soap.

and never ever let your eyes off a drink when gambling at some bar.
i used to walk outside and send mine flying between games. or the flower pot if they had one inside.
i would have 5 or 6 beers with only a small slug of each when i first got them.
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Once was enough for me. Playing in a bar in L.A. five and ten dollar eight ball. I had one of those nights, couldn't lose a game. I must have held the table for thirty or more games.

Pretty soon only one left to challenge. All the other names were off the board. He asked me if I wanted to play for 20 a game. Sure, why not. I was drinking bottled water only and feeling good. Pretty soon I'm losing every game and missing easy shots. I still felt good but somehow lost my eye.

Later on I was told (by some guy I didn't even know) what they did to me. While I was shooting someone had put something in my water bottle.

I blew back maybe 100 or so, but still left the place with a decent win. Never went back there though.
 
jay helfert said:
Once was enough for me. Playing in a bar in L.A. five and ten dollar eight ball. I had one of those nights, couldn't lose a game. I must have held the table for thirty or more games.

Pretty soon only one left to challenge. All the other names were off the board. He asked me if I wanted to play for 20 a game. Sure, why not. I was drinking bottled water only and feeling good. Pretty soon I'm losing every game and missing easy shots. I still felt good but somehow lost my eye.

Later on I was told (by some guy I didn't even know) what they did to me. While I was shooting someone had put something in my water bottle.

I blew back maybe 100 or so, but still left the place with a decent win. Never went back there though.
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Somebody got me one night, never knew for sure who or what. Another night I felt something small and solid in my beer. I didn't even finish the game, late for the door! I was only a few minutes from home and when whatever kicked in I wanted to be locked behind my own doors!

It was funny, people got jarred in certain places seemed like more than people jarring everywhere they went. Same clientele two places, one people would get jarred, the other not. I think somebody working there was in on the jarring, in fact I know they were!

Hu
 
Players are all workin' it when in the pool room on a regular basis, if your not then somethin' else is going on.
It's one of the fun things in life that doesn't happen on the links, you might pick up a quick $50 just walkin' in for and hr and your day is still young.
 
ShootingArts said:
Somebody got me one night, never knew for sure who or what. Another night I felt something small and solid in my beer. I didn't even finish the game, late for the door! I was only a few minutes from home and when whatever kicked in I wanted to be locked behind my own doors!

It was funny, people got jarred in certain places seemed like more than people jarring everywhere they went. Same clientele two places, one people would get jarred, the other not. I think somebody working there was in on the jarring, in fact I know they were!

Hu
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I was in a little town named Guernsey, WY for a job maybe ten years ago. I'd go to one of the two local bars so I could practice on their bar box for a big(ish) tournament coming up in Gillette, WY. One night they had a small 8b tournament and I won it pretty easily for like $150. I was having a beer with a local lady after the tournament when I started feeling a little "off". I was a pretty big drinker back then, so I figured something wasn't right when I started feeling that way after just starting my third beer...

I decided to go outside for some fresh air and just decided to drive home and go to bed. That's the last thing I remember from that night. I woke up at about 6:00am, butt-naked, in my bed in the garage apartment I was renting. Don't even remember the 1/2 mile drive home. I had a splitting headache and was very cold. There was a trail of my clothes from the wide-open front door to my bed. Hopped in the truck to hit the local pharmacy for some aspirin and there was my third beer still sitting in the cup holder.

I'm not sure what happened. Maybe someone wanted my money? My cue? Who knows. The bartender was a very flamboyant homosexual, and one of my buddies guessed that he was trying to take advantage of me (I get hit on a lot by that community...). Either way, I still had my cue, my cash, and my butt didn't hurt, so all-in-all it wasn't a terrible experience! :ROFLMAO:
 
Fat Ralph used to bet pretty high in years gone by. 50 and 100 dollar 9-Ball when that was serious money. He must be over 60 now.
 
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i beat a fat ralpf once for all his money long ago. he played pretty good but not quite good enough. and of course i made him spot me something.

funny part it took about 12 hours and a guy sat there and watched it all. and after it was over he asked to play the same way and was way under anyone in speed. did him in the same way in another 12 hours.
 
ShootingArts said:
The finest killing field I ever found was a side room to a naked dancing lady place and whore house. The pimps and gigolos would get bored and walk over to hustle drunks. They would stall until the bet got to twenty or fifty a game of eight or nine ball. Once in a long time a hundred a game! This was early eighties dollars so pretty sweet money.

I was a drunk and always had a pocket full of money so I was natural prey for these guys living off the gals primarily. The starting bet was always three or five dollars so these guys would stall, losing while raising the bet in steps to twenty or fifty. I would stall just a little less than them so win while still on the stall. Sometimes I had people give me a hundred dollars or more while they were trying to massage the bet! I could often stay on the stall a little even when they came off the stall, leaving me something for another night. One chuckle was that a mostly naked lady from next door would come over to raise hell at me a few times a month. "They were working their asses off and I was taking all of their money!" Not much sympathy from me since they were hustling the money from chumps to begin with!

It was a few years of the easiest money ever on a pool table then the main business lost it's license due to prostitution and the pool room shut down too. A damned shame, a few thousand a month was easy to come by just hustling the hustlers.

Hu
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Funny, haven’t thought of this for many years, but an easy mark was the owner of a late 80s NW Indiana titty bar (before the bluenose crack-down), who had a 6’ table in his bar area. Hardly any of the yokels could play back then, so this guy felt invulnerable on his own table. Flush with easy money in those days (only thriving clipjoint in the area), when he noticed me wining consistently, he just couldn’t resist the challenge. Though it was soon obvious he couldn’t beat me, he kept tossing down ‘C’ notes anyway. Those were the days. I sure do miss all the bare boobs & easy money!
 
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easy-e said:
I was in a little town named Guernsey, WY for a job maybe ten years ago. I'd go to one of the two local bars so I could practice on their bar box for a big(ish) tournament coming up in Gillette, WY. One night they had a small 8b tournament and I won it pretty easily for like $150. I was having a beer with a local lady after the tournament when I started feeling a little "off". I was a pretty big drinker back then, so I figured something wasn't right when I started feeling that way after just starting my third beer...

I decided to go outside for some fresh air and just decided to drive home and go to bed. That's the last thing I remember from that night. I woke up at about 6:00am, butt-naked, in my bed in the garage apartment I was renting. Don't even remember the 1/2 mile drive home. I had a splitting headache and was very cold. There was a trail of my clothes from the wide-open front door to my bed. Hopped in the truck to hit the local pharmacy for some aspirin and there was my third beer still sitting in the cup holder.

I'm not sure what happened. Maybe someone wanted my money? My cue? Who knows. The bartender was a very flamboyant homosexual, and one of my buddies guessed that he was trying to take advantage of me (I get hit on a lot by that community...). Either way, I still had my cue, my cash, and my butt didn't hurt, so all-in-all it wasn't a terrible experience! :ROFLMAO:
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There's a story about camping in there and you not speaking up about about an alleged situation then I am supposed to ask if you wanna go camping. 🤣🤣
 
This is fully 20 years old, and like the Ever Ready Bunny...........Never dies.

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