Why I Don’t Play Pool

At this point in my life I have come to conclusion that not only do I not know how to play pool, I should never try and learn. I believe if you did a detailed astrological chart of my birth there would in fact be a pool cue with a circle around it and inside that, across the center, would be a big red line. I am almost certain of this and there have been many instances throughout my life to reinforce this belief. I’ll list them:

1. At about the age of eight I was playing pool at my dad’s friend’s house. He was a loud crotchety old man with a foul mouth. Even though my dad told me he was harmless, I was kinda afraid of him. His grandson was there and at some point he yelled that if we ripped the felt on the table he was going to beat our asses. I decided it was in my best interest to find other ways to entertain myself.
2. In my early teens, a friend and I decided to cross the invisible line in a popular restaurant and enter the poolroom on the right instead of the seating area on the left. It was full of some weird, cross-pollinated group of bikers and rednecks. We walked over to an empty table and put in our quarters. The pool balls didn’t come out. My friend said something about it and a big drunk guy with a bandana and leather jacket told us, “It means if you can’t roll with the big boys you should just roll” We rolled extra quick over to the kiddies section and ate our onion rings. To this day, I have never gone back.
3. Fast forward to age 18 and you’ll find me in a sports bar in Norfolk. The guy I was dating decided to teach me how to play pool. Except for the fact I was drunk and he was determined to teach me how to play, things may have gone alright. He didn’t appreciate my carefree approach and I wasn’t appreciating him barking orders at me as he stood behind me trying to push me around. My somewhat butch lesbian roommate gave him this look that scared the hell out me, then she told him to back off. He ignored her until her brother (my informally adopted big brother) said the same thing. I decided a game of drunken darts was more my thing. He decided it was time to leave.
4. Unable to see the futility in attempting to learn the game of pool, I found myself a few months later in a club in Virginia Beach. I had gone with a former roommate, who interesting enough was also a lesbian. There were some bands playing and I was…uhhh…high on life and somehow ended up in the poolroom. Things were going great this time. She was teaching me how to play pool and I was working on some free drinks when a guy asked if he could join us. We agreed and before we knew what was happening he was getting angry because she was better at pool than he was. She tried to lose but he figured that out and got angrier. Once he started talking about his counselor we decided it was time to leave. She asked some big drunk guy wearing a bandana (but no leather jacket) to keep him there and we hit the door running. We didn’t stop until we made it back home. I didn’t sleep too well that night and it wasn’t because my roommate and former roommate were …umm… hitting it off in the living room.
5. A few years ago we rented a house and there was a pool table downstairs. MyHusband offered to teach me how to play and I was having a really good time. Then the girls decided they wanted to play. I was standing there watching him teach my daughter how to hold the pool cue and thinking he was so amazing and wonderful with the kids when something crashed into the right side of my head. My other daughter had decided to try on her own and I was in the direct line of fire. It seemed to knock some sense into me. That was the point I realized that pool was not my game.

These are five good reasons for me to never attempt to play pool again. I have no desire to work on a sixth reason. Yet, something tells me I will. I’ve always wanted to play pool.

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