I announce to Stewart. My cue is exactly twenty one ounces; I like it heavy in my hands. The lighter cue is what I’ll use to break, and I never use my personal one. The thrust is too hard and I don’t want my stick to warp. We’ve been shooting pool all day. I never bothered to tell him about my meeting at five, which isn’t mandatory I attend anyway. I line up my stick to hit the cue ball with just enough force to make it spin and knock the nine ball into the pocket. I love the sound of the balls clanking together and the smell of chalk on the sticks. Smack! “Damn, I should have made that!” Stewart laughs at my outburst. He’s always amused at me when I choke on a sure shot. “Are you in for tonight or not Caide? They have a new bartender; she’s got big boobs and long legs. Seven Inch Screw is playing tonight, they’re dope dude.” “What idiot names their band Seven Inch Screw, so he’s got an average pecker? It’s The Eagles Nest man, everyone is old and boring in there,”
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