so stay with me and I'll have it made
i walked to the bar to order a special. she must've heard my voice, and said "schuler?" I turned and recognized but couldn't place face. we met last night, she said, but last night was, well, last night... but now, her 21st birthday a sunday in a practically empty towny bar, how sad... someone said an oatmeal cookie is a nice'un so i helped her on her way with that and after the shot she jogged my memory of the circumstances and happenstances. a nice new acquaintance.
later, i made the winning shot of a different variety; eightball, corner -- and (victorylap) finished off the other team's balls afterwards. we were done so the older fella in tooshort sweatpants came over and changed his dollar to metal and fed metal to table and racked. he pointed that i should not stop playing but begin anew so i whacked one into the others and embarrassedly left most of the balls down there. but things went mostly smoothly and by the end he had one out there and i none, and that meant that he had to say good game first and I got to smile at me thinking that he was a seasoned pro and i just an amatuer.