Not my night

Whenever I invite Corey out, he always asks, “so who all is going?” because he is so cool, he must ensure it’s worth his while to show up, and evidently, I, by myself, am not worth his time. Monday night, I was shooting some pool at one bar, when Corey Kelly called and asked me to go to a different bar across town. I did not ask, “so who all is going?” despite knowing it would just be us two. Because manners.

I was shooting for free on full-sized tables, why wouldn’t I go pay $1.50/game on a shitty bar table with atrocious lean and sand on the felt with Corey? Sure.

(So I went.)

Despite my being 20 minutes out while Corey lives less than 5 minutes away, I arrived first, had time to shoot a few rounds alone, and get some food before ckelly showed up. Thanks, man.

We played a couple of games, then ran out of quarters.

I gave Corey a few dollar bills, and he went to the change machine to get quarters. I wasn’t paying attention, but heard him swearing. I looked over, and he was trying to shove the dollar bill into the ATM cash dispenser slot. I thought he was doing it to be funny, but he it turns out he was legitimately trying to get quarters from the ATM.

After I chuckled and showed him the error of his ways, he lamented, “What’s worse is the first time, I tried to put it in the credit card slot.”

I very nearly died.

MOSTLY because of this story, which I shared with Corey to try to alleviate some of his embarrassment:

A couple of years ago, my friend Severin and I were at a different bar, but we similarly needed quarters for the pool table. I went to get them. There were two machines on the wall which accepted dollar bills. I inserted my dollar bill into one of them, it took my dollar, and did not spit out any quarters whatsoever.

I went back to Sev, and said, “That thing ate my money.”

“Which one?”

I pointed.

“You mean the jukebox?

“…. Oh.”

Severin will never, ever let me live that one down – and rightly so. And now, it is my solemn and sacred duty to make sure Corey never forgets this night, either.

Speaking of Corey Kelly, we once again ran ourselves out of quarters. I found three in my pocket, and we got another dollar’s worth from the actual coin machine. Corey looked at me, and said, “I still need two more.”

“I just gave them to you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did. I put them in your hand.”

“No.”

We both emptied out our pockets onto the table. I still had the quarters. >.<

Prior to that point, Corey hadn’t ever beaten me at pool. I lost two in a row after.

Suffice to say, it wasn’t my night.

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