My posts concerning poker have been few and far between lately. I'd taken a pretty massive hit to the bankroll (like 95% of it), and although I knew most of it was luck and not my play that caused the massive drops, I decided to take a step back. My heart and my wallet just couldn't take anymore. At the risk of alerting the poker gods that I'm starting to wade back into the pool again, I'm happy to say that I'm doing better now and beginning to enjoy it again.
Of course, if I'm not playing poker, I have to be doing something, right? Lately it's been shooting pool. I used to hang out in a pool hall in high school (there was nothing better to do unless it involved booze or sex, and I was a good girl - was...) but it's been a while since I've put any serious time into it. I'll soon be joining a pool league at the Social Club I belong to, and some of my future teammates have been helping me brush up on my skills. I spend lots of time there, drinking and trying not to be the worst person on the team. I may not be able to hit some of the easier shots, but my saving grace is that I leave the crappiest shots for the person I'm playing against. Johnson pool. :-)
Since my shift in hobbies, I haven't been hitting the Boathouse much. Last night, I decided that it would be a good night to go back to the home ground. Thursday is trivia night, and it's nice to have a little competition that pays for your bar tab.
The night started out well enough. Nice weather. Favorite bartender Terri working. (StB
's favorite bartender too - she was born in Milwaukee, but I think it's her "geography" that he likes staring at. Hi StB! BTW - did you get my dial-a-shot message?) Night started out slow... beers, a shot or two. Royce had a few of his buddies show up. LOTS of shots.
At some point, Al
goes up to visit ScubaSteve
. A drunk chick celebrating her 22nd birthday is trying to get into the dj booth, and of course wingman Al comes to the rescue. He offers to bring her back to the bar and buy her a shot. Normally I don't mind when Al does this, but things weren't quite right with her. She kept petting my hair. (I have a friend that plays with my hair, but I've known her for a couple of years.) And she kept telling me how beautiful I was. And wanted a hug or three. I figured she was drunk so it wasn't really a big deal... right?
Time progresses. Team AlCantHang (me, Al, BigMike
, and Caucci) kicks ass on trivia. We make it to the final round - up against the second place team. We answer the 15 questions and wait to find out the results. Now, drunk girl is back. More drunk than before. (It seems that she was seen doing a pole dance on a pool cue at some slightly earlier point of the night.) She sees me... I should've run. Nope, I stay where I am and let her stumble up to me. More hugs. This time she goes for a kiss. Not a friendly, on the cheek kiss. On the lips. Not once, not twice, but THREE times. I can only imagine what I looked like, dodging her lips. I look over and the bouncer is staring with slack-jawed interest. (I was going to say he couldn't believe what he was seeing, but I know that's a lie. Interesting stuff happens there all the time. I just don't think he expected me to be in the middle of it!) I can see him laughing at me as I try to extricate myself from her hug. He'll get payback one of these days.
After one more short trivia round, Team AlCantHang wins another week and remains the Boathouse champion! It was a good week - we won 90% of the prize pool. It goes a long way towards covering the bar tab.
It's around 10:30 PM now, and ScubaSteve isn't feeling well. He offers to let me iPod-DJ again. hehehe I love this stuff. I get to play all the music I love and everyone else can all go to hell. Well, not really, but I get to play stuff people haven't heard before. I did this for about 2.5 hours. I introduced people to the Gourds, Elliott BROOD, Rufio, Anberlin and other lesser-known songs and covers. I think I may have a spot for late-night DJ. (I just have to prepare and make playlists next time. It stinks having to be stuck to your iPod for a few hours.)
Royce finally sobers up enough from all the shots he's done to be able to pick his head up off the bar, where it's been for quite a while. It's 1 AM, and he has to be at work in 3.5 hours. Not good. I think the room is still moving on its own a little bit for him. Between the shots and many cans of Red Bull, his stomach has had enough of this crap. He's a hurtin' camper. He's sobering up rapidly though, and BigMike offers to stay a little while longer to make sure he's ok. We head home...
So, that's my story. What would have happened if I'd just hit the Social Club like normal? I would've had a few beers, maybe a shot or two. I'd have played about a dozen games of pool (if I was having a good night - less if I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn) and hung out with the guys. All good people - usually the same group, (mostly) responsible people, always amusing. Instead, I got molested by a drunk 22-year-old chick and got to DJ for a few hours while waiting for drunk boy to sober up. (And yes, just for you perverts, she was cute. At least I attract cute women. Maybe Bobby Bracelet
should take Boathouse lessons from me. lol Love ya Bobby!)
So, now that I've eaten my breakfast, drank my tea, and settled in (blogged) for the morning, maybe I should get some work done. Half an hour until lunch, and I'd hate to be late for that. Happy Friday!