I got up one morning about about 30 or so years ago, back when life was about partying all the time. My roommate and I decided to go get a fifth of Bacardi 151 and some Coke. At 11 am we started drinking. Sometime during the day, we ran into a friend who wanted to go shoot some pool. At the time, I was shooting okay but not great. Well, I wasn't too drunk yet and beat this guy pretty good. He said he had a friend that liked to shoot for money and would I be interested in playing him later that night. I said sure and mistakenly showed up at the right time to play.
By now I was totally smashed and could hardly stand up, let alone play pool. To add to my misery, my brother and his wife had come up to visit and they were not impressed with my behavior. They gave me a ride to the pool hall to watch the big match. Well, we decide to play for $5 a rack. I get my butt wiped the first game and quickly realize I need to find a way out. I make some excuse for not paying him (did I already mention I didn't have any money?) and we play another one. He quickly wins that one, too. I mumble something about getting a beer and some change and head for the counter by the front door. I order a beer and as soon as the attendant turns his back, I make my break. As soon as I hit the door, I can hear the yells starting. The attendant takes off after me. He is in pretty good shape and is staying pretty close. I realize I'm not going to be able to keep this pace up much longer, so I start looking for a way out. After turning a corner, I see a store with some bushes in front, so I duck behind the bushes. I see the guy chasing me run up and look around. I don't know whether he chickened out on confronting me, or just never noticed my hiding place, but he turned around and headed back.
I waited a few minutes, then stepped out onto the sidewalk wondering how the heck I was going to get home and what happened to my brother. Just at that moment, here came my brother and his wife in their car driving the wrong way down the one way street I was standing on. Needless to say, they were even less impressed with my behavior now, and I was one seriously embarassed scoundrel. I still feel bad about it to this day. If anyone on here got burned for $10 in August of 1975 at Santa Rosa Billiards by a drunk, skinny hippy, let me know and I will gladly pay you...