“…and my balls were still on the table.”

So, on Sunday, in the middle of the whole “what the heck is going on in Ms. Hold ‘Em’s brain?” scenario, I went down to the bar above the secret bar–in part, just to get out of the house; but, also in part, to see if Mr. Asshole was going to be there. Not that I had an actual plan of action in mind, but certainly in my annoyed thoughts I at least saw fingers breaking and/or an expensive cell phone being thrown into the frigid river. He wasn’t there so I can continue to pretend that I would’ve taken some passionately bold, if not ill-advised, action. At any rate, when I walked in at around 9 PM the owner and Mr. Short Guy were there.

Mr. Short Guy (to me): You look like someone who needs an alibi.

Me: Yeah, I got here at 7. Got it?

Owner: You might wanna pile some snow on your car so it looks believable.

Me: Good point.

So, anyway, just another shortish post. Last night Ms. Hold ‘Em and I met up and went to a chain restaurant (on a gift certificate, woot!) and played some pool. She of course won every game, but it was fun coming close once or twice…I won’t mention the game I had all seven balls still on the table when she sank the eight ball. It was another really nice night, made only slightly awkward by ther fact that she broke up with me two days prior. By, hey, what can ya do?


2 Responses to ““…and my balls were still on the table.””

  1. Afternoon Girl Says:

    If you ever need a smack-down back up tag-team partner, you know I can take that Mr. Asshole any day!


    PS: Ms. Hold ‘Em is good people, and smart. She won’t let you go so easily again.

  2. Courtney Says:

    I’m kind of new around here, but if you say you broke his fingers, then you did. Thanks for the link adds, by the way.

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