He starts to rack the cue balls while I decide to grab a new plastic cup from behind the bar for him. Without asking, I pour him a beer and hand it to him. “Is that what you studied in college? Math and physics?”
He takes the beer from me with an appreciative nod. “More or less. I have my degree in mechanical engineering.” He grabs us two pool cues and hands me one. We’re both about the same height—I might be a little taller—so he selects the two longest ones. “My dad is an ME and he wanted me to go into it. I liked it well enough, but once I actually graduated and did it, I found myself more interested in the people at work than my actual job. Hence the recent career change into HR.”
Seven Nation Armyby the White Stripes plays in the background, and I set my beer down on the edge of the table and line up my first shot. “So you like your job? What a novel concept.” I thrust my cue forward and the balls scatter. Solid blue number two sinks as does green number six.
“Do you like your job?” Jay asks as he leans his hip against the table, hands clasped around the stick.
I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that. I don’t think I’ve ever admitted the truth aloud. Gnawing on my inner lip, I still myself and rip a new shot at my number four before answering. “No. It fuckin’ sucks, man.” Four sinks into the left corner pocket.
“Sorry. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three. You?”
“Twenty-four,” he replies and takes a drink from his cup. “You from here?”
“Grew up in Norristown.” I don’t feel like revealing that I’m essentially homeless, but I do add, “Staying with my sister in the city while I’m here. You?” I strike again, this time missing my pocket.
“I live in the city. Grew up in Bryn Mawr.”
I rise back up and give him a haughty look, knowing how affluent that area is and the complete opposite of my hometown. Grabbing my beer and extending my pinkie like it’s high tea, I give him my best yacht club voice, “Oh, Bryn Mawr, you say.”
He chuckles and makes his way to assess his first move. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” He lines up and strikes the cue ball, knocking several, both striped and solid, but nothing drops in a pocket. He furrows his thick eyebrows. “Come on,” he groans. “I think I need to be drunker for this. Maybe I’m thinking too much.”
I huff a laugh and he downs the rest of his beer. Scanning the table, I decide to help him out. I shoot for number seven by way of his yellow number nine, knocking mine close but just shy of the pocket. This allows a clear and easy shot for him to sink his nine.
He gasps in excitement. “I see your pity and I’ll gladly take it.” He lines up and shoots his shot. “No shame here.” On his next shot, he miraculously makes contact with two more of his balls, dropping them both. “Woo! I’m gonna rally!” he exclaims and my whole body shakes with laughter at his completely delusional outlook.
On his next shot, he accidentally knocks my yellow number one and it falls in as well as the cue ball. “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. I decide to go for the kill and sink my three and five and finish it off with eight. Not shying away from his embarrassing defeat, his face sets in determination. “Best two out of three.”
“Alright. Your funeral. It’s a good thing we’re not putting money on this.”
His eyes dart back and forth as he taps his finger to his chin. “Oh, I think we should. That could be a good incentive for me to win.”
“How about loser buys a round?”
“That’s it? Worried you’re gonna lose, Marco?” he taunts.
“Petrified,” I say evenly in a sarcastic tone while the corner of my lip turns up.
He makes his way to the bar and yells back over the music. “Well, that’s brave of you to admit.”
We spend the next hour or so playing and joking and chirping at each other. At some point, Brittany came out of the bathroom looking disheveled with her hookup and ran past me to whisper in Jay’s ear. He just smiled and shook his head as she ran off, Hookup’s hand entwined with hers.
“Last call!” The bartenders shout. We’ve already downed a couple pitchers between the two of us and I’m feeling buzzed and happy. Not exactly how I thought this night would play out, but I’m not mad about it.
Jay scrunches his face after finishing his beer. “Damn, it’s last call already? I’ve been having such a good time.”
“You’ve been having a good time losing to me?”
“You’re letting me lose,” he says with a sway and one eyelid closing.
A laugh bursts from my belly at his ridiculous comment. “What? That makes no sense.”
He inhales sharply, as if he just thought of something. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? Do you wanna go play some pickup basketball at my gym?”
I consider it. It’s not like I have anything better to do. And Jay’s been fun to hang out with. Why not?
“Yeah, sure.”
