BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 303
My kind of people, back then.
I sat with „em and got a beer, so we all started talking. One guy asked me to play
pool, so we did. I beat him in a hurry, since The Willow wasn‟t anyplace I‟d ever be
hustling.
There was a table with four tall black guys, all in their late 20s, all looking kind of
tough. Surly, even. One of them wanted to play pool. I explained I‟d won the last game,
therefore I had the table. He didn‟t want to play with me. His plans included playing
with one of his friends.
I told him that was too bad, but agreed to play him for five bucks. After he tried
to argue and I told him it made no difference, he‟d either play me or nobody, as the other
table was occupied, the asshole relented. Honestly, I didn‟t even care. If he‟d asked me
nicely, I more than likely would‟ve given up the table and gone to drink with Jack and the
rest of the bikers. Jack was their leader.
The black guy expected me to rack, and I patiently explained that‟s not how it
works on a bar table. The challenger pays the money and racks the balls. The winner,
me, then gets to break. That winner also gets to set the betting stakes for the game. If the
challenger doesn‟t like the amount of the bet, he takes his money back and sits down so
someone else can challenge the table.
He then suggested the bartender wouldn‟t approve of betting, so I‟d have to play
him for nothing. I suggested Frenchy might just throw his black ass out of the bar, and he
could go fuck himself if he didn‟t want to play by my rules on my table.
Apparently, he saw the light, so he got the balls down.
Then, while we played, he talked with his friends about his “hot car” out in the
Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963