January 31, 2001.  Wednesday
 

    Work is kind of a pain in the ass.  It would be more bearable if I were getting paid.  Soon, I hope.  But enough about that.

    Turned a busy work day into a fun evening today, at the eleventh hour. Literally.  I met Caryn and Katey at the Fat Black Pussy Cat on W. 3rd St. after work, and by the time I finished my Burger King chicken sandwich, Jen showed up.  We had a few drinks, talked a bit, Caryn and Jen scolded me, Katey gave me some dirty looks, and we ate a lot of party mix.  We were getting ready to leave, when the pool table opened up, so we played a few games.  Jen and I won, 3 games to 2, despite me scratching twice on the 8 ball.  I hate playing in front of people, but I was playing relatively well while the people waiting to play watched. So then when we were done, they asked us to play.  So Jen and I took 'em on.  Just by the way these guys held the cue stick and their knuckles, I knew we were in trouble.  While Jen and I scraped our first few balls in, these guys were hitting crisp, clean shots.  They were pretty much in control, and I was fairly embarrassed.  After they missed their first shot, I said "Ok, you guys should just sit down now," as if I were about to run the table.  A bit of levity was all I could muster.  But then, miraculously, we came storming back.  I had a couple good shots, and Jen made a pretty amazing ricochet shot to tie it up, with only the 8 ball left. She missed, then the other guy missed.  Then I missed, and the guy called his shot and made it.  I thought it was the best Jen and I ever played, but I also suspect that the guys we were playing dumped a few shots. Maybe they were trying to hustle, or maybe they just felt bad for us.  come to think of it, I didn't hear them call their last shot, and it didn't really go in where it looked like it should have.  but we still felt pretty good about ourselves.
    It was a pretty fun evening.  It's nice when you can do something together with your friends, like team sports.  Conversation is nice, but struttin' after a good shot and taunting and talking shit holds a special place in my heart.

    On the train ride home, which was extra long due to the late night time, I saw man with some pretty bad flipped back and gelled hair.  He could best be described as looking very much like a young Wayne Newton.  That amused me.

    I was thinking a lot on the train.  I feel pretty good.  Just pleasantness.  Bed time.
 

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