My first outting to begin the journey...

R

RollOver

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My first pool hall story.....

"How much per hour?". I stood their awaiting an answer from the elderly lady who was in obvious bad healthy--I wonder if the nature of this sport breeds health deficiency due to addiction--a matter for another day! "$2.50 per hour, son." Why is it that at my ripe old age of 22 I'm still called son; something that digs into my skin as I've matured mentally extremely quick. "Aight, lemme get an isolated 9 footer please", I said in a snappy manner due to the son remark. She hands me a square rack of balls with 2 pieces of wore out chalk but surprizingly clean and slick balls; this place is a hole in the wall.

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As I leave the entrance area and enter the pool hall for the first time I notice the obvious lack of financial backing that has been supporting this place over the years--I hope not by design. The room is quite large. The ceilings are about 15 feet high as a guess-ta-ment with approximately 30 tables. I noticed on the right we're a slew of coin barboxes arranged in a paralleled manner while throughout the rest of the place their was an assortment of 8 and 9 footers with a few snooker tables scattered throughout. This side of the hall had all the tables set diagonally which I thought of as a clever way to avoid running into the asses of opposing tables.


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I got to table number 13 which I was delighted to see was a perfectly clean and well maintained 9 foot table perfect for practicing my game which has been stagnant for about 4 years. I rack up quickly as the anxiety and excitment starts to course my veins like blood in a marathon. I fumble with my pool cue trying to prepare myself for a power brake when I realise I don't really know how to hold the pool cue in a 'correct' manner. Forget that I think and proceed to start. Back, forth, back, forth, back...hold....aim...SLAM!!! I hit the ball right behind the 1 and in proper newbie fashion scratch on my first break. I smile to myself and proceed to rack up a final total of $23.78. Im hooked...


PS : Sorry bout triple post. Usually not on this computer. Enjoy!
 
RollOver said:
"How much per hour?". I stood their awaiting an answer from the elderly lady who was in obvious bad healthy--I wonder if the nature of this sport breeds health deficiency due to addiction--a matter for another day! "$2.50 per hour, son." Why is it that at my ripe old age of 22 I'm still called son; something that digs into my skin as I've matured mentally extremely quick. "Aight, lemme get an isolated 9 footer please", I said in a snappy manner due to the son remark. She hands me a square rack of balls with 2 pieces of wore out chalk but surprizingly clean and slick balls; this place is a hole in the wall.

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The lady was probably trying to be nice.
 
I'm at retirement age and when I say "son" to someone of your age it's because I care about you/like you/want to help you. It is a sign of caring and in no way condescending in nature. It was as obvious to her that you were young as much as it was that you knew she was old. Think positive both on and off the table and good things will come about. Who knows, she may have taken a liking to you/thought you looked like someone she cares about in her life which could lead to some free playing time -- you never know!

If she was being an ass there is no need to react in kind.
 
LOL! I find it quite funny that the majority of the responses we're to the son thing. I only added that for ad lib purposes to spice up the story.

For the record I grew up in the 'slums' you could say, and when people called me son it was in a condescending way to try and start a fight so it's subconsciously tied to a negative for me. I'll keep in mind the opinions of some of the older posters here though.

PS - I DO respect my elders, at least the ones worthy of respect.
 
I used to work for an old man that called every guy "kid" regardless of age. I worked for him for two years and wondered if the dickhead even knew my name. I pissed him off one time and found out that he did ;)

I remember mumbling one time about the kid stuff (I was a cocky 16 year old "kid" then) when a guy said "Eh don't worry about it.....I'm 30 ****ing years old and he still calls me kid"
 
^Hah. Yea, when older MEN call me son it usually comes across as someone just tryin ta help a young guy and -NOT argumentative!- :grin: --not sexist just how I was raised--SHE just happened to make the remark in a snide way. This pool hall is also right next door to a school and I've noticed most of the 'players' there are disrespectful stoners; I look young.
 
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