"Nice shot!" Richard said, as he stood; holding his pool cue in both hands and staring at Chris; bending over - from the other side of the table - positioning a tap of the cue in his hands, ever so gently.
"I bet she'll take the whole table," said a man from near the pool table; sitting with a 'friend' of his at the serving station in which the waitress had just appeared.
"Can I get you two a refresher?"
"Two more Molson Canadian's please," the man said.
"Two? I'm not drinking anymore than you said you were going to-" "Shut up! You're drinking for two, let alone having one more."
"Listen-" said the man's friend, "You can stare at her all night: she's not going.to sleep with you-"
The man: slammed his fist on the table; knocking over the empties and jiggling the tray of chicken wings that remained on the plate.
"I don't care!"
The whole bar: went silent, and Chris peered over towards the men.
"You guys alright?" Asked Richard, "Huh?" The man replied.
"Yeah - just a disagreement." "Try to enjoy yourselves, gentleman." Richard replied. And the pool game continued.
The man began to lower his tone, "She's taunting us with those short-shorts." "Did you ever think that she's wearing them because it's boiling outside-" "No. I think she likes the attention."
Chris struck the number six ball with the pool cue; and it rolled into the corner pocket.
"That's game!"
YOU ARE READING
Street Called Main
Historical FictionDuring the Great War between Main Street and Wall Street: a love blossoms between that of the indigenous tribe's most valuable asset, 'Shawn;' Chris' homosexual lover and that of Chris' interests. What transpires between the throes of love and war i...
