My embarassing story doesn't hold a candle to some of the others, but here goes.
A friend of mine had had a rough couple of days in his personal life, and decides that he needs to get real drunk, and that I should be his drinking buddy for the day. So we start the day off drinking at about 10:30am, and keep drinking all day.
At about dusk I get a call from a guy I play on a regular basis, and he is looking for action. I am by far the favorite against this guy, so I decide that it would be a good opportunity to make some more drinking money, and we head down to the pool hall.
I start playing the guy some even one-pocket for $50 a game, and while I would normally be ahead, I am drunk enough that I am down a couple games after 2 hours. I am shooting at my hole, and only a couple of balls away from winning this particular game, but I am stretched out over the table, and jacked up over a ball. Had I been sober I would be using the bridge, but instead I am stretched out as far as I can reach.
Mid-stroke, the hand that is holding me up slips, and my body slams down on the table scattering the balls everywhere. I slide off the table cursing and stumble backwards into a waitress. While I barely bump her, it is enough to knock the tray full of empty bottles from her hands. The sound of the crashing glass is terribly loud and gets the attention of everyone in the place. I am now beet red in the face and start apologizing to the waitress while I pick up pieces of broken glass.
The waitress tells me not to worry about the glass, when I proceed to slice my finger open on part of a broken beer mug and blood starts squirting everywhere. I get a rag from the bar to wrap my hand in, pay off the guy I was playing, and spend the rest of the evening sobering up while I wait 4 hours in urgent care to get a few stitches.
The next time I went to the pool hall, I noticed that my spurting blood had made a stain on the rail of the table I had been playing on. I hating playing on that table and seeing that stain until they finally recovered the table a month later. And now, everytime I am asked to play when I have been drinking, I look at the scar on my hand before saying, "not right now, but maybe some other day".
A friend of mine had had a rough couple of days in his personal life, and decides that he needs to get real drunk, and that I should be his drinking buddy for the day. So we start the day off drinking at about 10:30am, and keep drinking all day.
At about dusk I get a call from a guy I play on a regular basis, and he is looking for action. I am by far the favorite against this guy, so I decide that it would be a good opportunity to make some more drinking money, and we head down to the pool hall.
I start playing the guy some even one-pocket for $50 a game, and while I would normally be ahead, I am drunk enough that I am down a couple games after 2 hours. I am shooting at my hole, and only a couple of balls away from winning this particular game, but I am stretched out over the table, and jacked up over a ball. Had I been sober I would be using the bridge, but instead I am stretched out as far as I can reach.
Mid-stroke, the hand that is holding me up slips, and my body slams down on the table scattering the balls everywhere. I slide off the table cursing and stumble backwards into a waitress. While I barely bump her, it is enough to knock the tray full of empty bottles from her hands. The sound of the crashing glass is terribly loud and gets the attention of everyone in the place. I am now beet red in the face and start apologizing to the waitress while I pick up pieces of broken glass.
The waitress tells me not to worry about the glass, when I proceed to slice my finger open on part of a broken beer mug and blood starts squirting everywhere. I get a rag from the bar to wrap my hand in, pay off the guy I was playing, and spend the rest of the evening sobering up while I wait 4 hours in urgent care to get a few stitches.
The next time I went to the pool hall, I noticed that my spurting blood had made a stain on the rail of the table I had been playing on. I hating playing on that table and seeing that stain until they finally recovered the table a month later. And now, everytime I am asked to play when I have been drinking, I look at the scar on my hand before saying, "not right now, but maybe some other day".
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Unless you are the one that started the joke, lol.