Hickok
Still shootin'
A drifter (with a hard luck story) showed up at the pool hall about a
month ago. He's there all day, all night, frequently leaves for an hour
or so but always returns. He's pleasant, polite, quiet, about 50. He
drinks, but not much. He never offers to help with table time.
He's tried to get a money game with just about everyone in the place,
but hasn't had much luck save an occasional 8-ball game for a buck or two
with kids. The guy is good. He wins but he wins 'lucky'. I glance over
two or three tables from time to time and see him, for example, trying to
get position the hard way, and if he blows it, he's looking at a decent
bank shot. The guy is good.
About a week ago he comes up to me (for the third time) and asks if I'm
ready for some 10 dollar 9-ball. I say "OK. I know you're better than
I am but I'll play 5 a game 5 ahead and if you beat the crap out of me,
then we'll have to talk about weight." He agrees.
Well, he beats the crap out of me. I've never seen anyone slop so many
balls in my life! And if he missed, he didn't leave me a shot to run with.
He didn't play safties. He just took his best shot and if it didn't go,
I wound up with diddly. He won 'lucky'.
So. When I gave Mr. Lucky his money he says "I guess you want a spot now.
How 'bout the eight?" I say, "If you want to make $25 an hour, you're
going to have to get a job. Give me the 7 & 8 same way, and we'll see how
it goes." He says "no problem." Ouch! I've just coughed up $50 like a
moron. Oh well.
We play. He misses a couple, I make a couple. I win easily 5-0. It
seemed like every time I got to the table I was looking at an easy combo
on a money ball.
BOOM! Mr. Lucky slams $25 on the table and yells loud enough for everyone
to hear, "THIS IS HORSESHIT! I DON'T GIVE WEIGHT. NEVER HAVE, NEVER WILL."
Of course he just gave me the 7/8. He stormed out of the place forgetting his jacket.
He was hopping mad.
When he came back after his customary hour break, I went over to him at the
bar and said "We broke even for chump change. No hard feelings?"
He ignored me. Oh well.
I don't understand the tantrum. Is this guy trying to set me up? Or am I
just being paranoid? The guy is good.
month ago. He's there all day, all night, frequently leaves for an hour
or so but always returns. He's pleasant, polite, quiet, about 50. He
drinks, but not much. He never offers to help with table time.
He's tried to get a money game with just about everyone in the place,
but hasn't had much luck save an occasional 8-ball game for a buck or two
with kids. The guy is good. He wins but he wins 'lucky'. I glance over
two or three tables from time to time and see him, for example, trying to
get position the hard way, and if he blows it, he's looking at a decent
bank shot. The guy is good.
About a week ago he comes up to me (for the third time) and asks if I'm
ready for some 10 dollar 9-ball. I say "OK. I know you're better than
I am but I'll play 5 a game 5 ahead and if you beat the crap out of me,
then we'll have to talk about weight." He agrees.
Well, he beats the crap out of me. I've never seen anyone slop so many
balls in my life! And if he missed, he didn't leave me a shot to run with.
He didn't play safties. He just took his best shot and if it didn't go,
I wound up with diddly. He won 'lucky'.
So. When I gave Mr. Lucky his money he says "I guess you want a spot now.
How 'bout the eight?" I say, "If you want to make $25 an hour, you're
going to have to get a job. Give me the 7 & 8 same way, and we'll see how
it goes." He says "no problem." Ouch! I've just coughed up $50 like a
moron. Oh well.
We play. He misses a couple, I make a couple. I win easily 5-0. It
seemed like every time I got to the table I was looking at an easy combo
on a money ball.
BOOM! Mr. Lucky slams $25 on the table and yells loud enough for everyone
to hear, "THIS IS HORSESHIT! I DON'T GIVE WEIGHT. NEVER HAVE, NEVER WILL."
Of course he just gave me the 7/8. He stormed out of the place forgetting his jacket.
He was hopping mad.
When he came back after his customary hour break, I went over to him at the
bar and said "We broke even for chump change. No hard feelings?"
He ignored me. Oh well.
I don't understand the tantrum. Is this guy trying to set me up? Or am I
just being paranoid? The guy is good.