For years I have been going to the same local neighborhood bar to play pool. It’s the kind of place where I know most of the people and many of them know me. It kind of reminds me of Cheers – “where everybody knows your name.”
The place is nothing to write home about. It has been called a “dive” more than once, and the owner doesn’t put much money into the establishment to keep it up. It’s a comfortable place though, and one where you can put your feet up and relax.
For quite a while now my brother and I have been playing pool there every Friday night. We usually have a table to ourselves, and when someone challenges the winner, it’s usually someone we know and like to play pool with.
In other words, I go there and usually have a good time. Lately though, things have been getting out of hand. My peaceful little local hangout has been changing.
Last Friday, at our usual pool night, a bunch of loud and obnoxious young guys were playing pool on the other table in the place. The alcohol must have been flowing freely for quite a while because things were getting out of hand. Glass was breaking, profanity was flying through the air, and disrespect was the order of the day.
I mentioned to my brother that if these guys were still here in another hour, there were going to be fights starting. Little did I know that it would involve me.
A while later I had to use the restroom, so I opened the door and attempted to enter and take care of business. The small bathroom had about 5 guys in it who gave me a surly look as I opened the door. OK, I’ll wait until later.
About ten minutes later I figured I had waited long enough. I entered the restroom even though there were still 3 guys in there. They were hunched over the urinal snorting something white and powdery. Great.
That’s when the abuse started. They were, I guess, upset that I had the audacity to use the public restroom and invade their little drug party. Insults started coming my way and one of them actually pulled my hair while I was taking care of business and in no position to defend myself. I left the room after returning a little verbal abuse of my own.
Things went downhill from there. Each member of the group of 5 or 6 people took turns coming over to me and hurling abuse and threats. I was repeatedly invited to “step outside and do something about it”. It became impossible to continue playing pool.
Finally my brother and I moved to the other side of the bar to attempt to diffuse the situation, but the idiots wouldn’t quit. More threats and physical gestures continued to be thrown our way. I complained to the bartender, who shut off the drinks to this group. However, it was obvious that they were pretty hyped-up on their drugs and booze and were out for blood.
Luckily for us, there was an older guy sitting next to me who, I guess, was a friend of some of the thugs who were hasseling us. He offered to walk us out of the bar to our cars. We took him up on his offer and walked by the jerks who followed us out of the bar, but only hurled verbal abuse our way and did not do anything physical. Thank you sir.
It really burned my ass to be so outnumbered and unable to make a stand against idiots and thugs such as these. To be told that I “don’t belong in this bar” that I have frequented for over 20 years by some young punk did not sit well at all. Alas, I have matured enough to realize that getting into a free-for-all with these bozos would not have done me a bit of good in the long run.
I got into another argument several months back with another drunken patron of this establishment. He walked up and plunked a quarter down on the table and walked away. He never asked who was playing or if anyone even had the winner of the game, which I did by the way. As I started to rack the balls after the game was over, he started taking a fit over me jumping ahead of him because he had his quarter on the table.
I was in a group of three people who had been playing on that table for several hours previously. We kept mental note of who was up next and didn’t bother placing quarters down on the table. We were informed that, because he had a quarter on the table and we did not, he had the next game, period.
Well, I ended up playing the next game, but not without a ferocious argument though. This guy continued to rant and rave for an hour afterwards. I finally ended up leaving that night in a disgusted mood. Who needs it?
It’s just too bad that you have to be subjected to this kind of abuse when you are trying to mind your own business and just play some pool. I was a young punk at one time, and someone probably had a similar opinion of me once or twice. But I never willingly gave anyone this kind of abuse without provocation. I have never gotten into a bar fight and I don’t want to start now.
So, I have come to the conclusion that I need to find another place to play pool – a place with a higher class of people, or at least less drunks and punks. Hopefully, this will keep me out of the trouble that I am afraid I am headed for, if I continue to patronize my usual place. It’s really a shame that it has to come to this, but as they say, that’s life in the big city.
