When I was 17 years-old, I worked in a pool hall. It was an experience I'll never forget. In the afternoons, some of the really good players would come in to warm up when nobody was around except their friends. I used to let them play for free and in turn, they showed me the ropes. In particular, a one-armed Native American (best hustler I ever met), spent a lot of time with me. He would hustle because that was the only way he could make money for food and rent. This guy could out-play everybody else... and with only one arm!
Anyway, sitting on the pool tables was a huge issue with management. I would give out one warning and the second time, you were kicked out. It was as serious as jumping balls were. If you ruined the felt, you were asked to pay for it.
Somebody's got to go back and get a sh!t load of dimes!
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