//the notes for this one are more scrambled towards the end than usual, may end up in gibberish //
So there I was, past midnight, sitting with one of the biggest beers they could offer at this bar. In one corner there were three men playing a version of pool or snooker that I couldn’t recognize. Hell, it just involved three balls and no pockets. On the other side, the rest of the middle-aged “townsmen” were standing. Or around the Old-timer coin slipper watching the fruits spin or semi-drunk talking about past drunk experiences and the responsibilities that go with them.
The saltshaker for my tequila was nice and funny. Shaped like a Corona bottle.
All honest to goodness people, with the looks that would go with what they probably are.
Men, Dutch men from a near city village.
Hell, I need to get my nose in some speed and that LSD business seems tempting for a night.
Good Doctor, what have you done to me… hehehe
Anyway, as I was sitting here on my own lonely arse, writing these words, thinking how stupid it is that I don’t share a talk with them.
Well…see ya in five?
Well… I still don’t understand a fuck about this game.
The basics are that you have to touch the three bands of the table…but for the rest…it’s a mystery.
But I learned something about the three players from an ed more of them…after 20 years they visibly old. And something about their jobs. On is a French mauer and the others are a something unknown or forgotten…
Fucked up game…
It is…
God damn. One lives next to the church though.
