One Christmas our parents bought us a pool table. A family gift they said, but our sisters never got in the queue for the cue. But the neighbor kids did. We became the place to be, the hang out. We were “THE cool family.” A quarter a game and the friends came with their paper route money or their lawn mowing cash to play. Some had an allowance (but only briefly). Our plan was to use the cash for improvements on the table and supplies. Better cue sticks, billiard balls (which chipped regularly from flying over the edge to the concrete floor below) and we would split the remaining money (according to our older brother’s suspect math and sense of fairness!)

Standard 8-Ball was the fare until the knucklehead down the street discovered 9-Ball. The games went quicker, he said. We could play for…something, he said. He was slicker at it than the rest of us and he’d get the best of us every time. The lot of us grew tired of his hustle and suddenly Billiards didn’t fit into our day. We hardly ever played any more, but before that, there was a brief moment when we was cool.

We were entertained
by the games that we would play.
I would say that’s cool!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge – Day #19: “Cool/Uncool poems”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s