So, I rejoined my bar pool league tonight. That said, I brought my pool cue to work, eventually to the bar where we had our match tonight, and home with me afterward. After the final game of the World Series, I decided it was time to walk home. On the way home I decided to stop into a burger joint here in Williamsburg, and grab dinner.
As I’m standing there, there’s these four hipsters sitting eating their burgers and drinking their cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Finally one of them turns to me. He’s scruffy and wearing the filthy red baseball cap.
Red Baseball Cap: Nice pool cue.
Purposely Ironic Mullet: Yeah, is that a ninja sword?
LittleBill: If it were, I don’t think I’d tell you.
Red Baseball Cap: Why not?
LittleBill: Because a ninja would lie to you.
Purposely Ironic Mullet: And you’re a ninja?
LittleBill: There’s no answer that would satisfy that.
After a few minutes they come back about the pool cue.
Red Baseball Cap: You can’t hustle with that. As soon as you walk in, you’d be marked.
LittleBill: What’s to say I’m hustling? I’m in a pool league
Red Baseball Cap: Well…
LittleBill: Also, what’s to say I need or want to hustle?
Ironic Mullet: To make money
I look at myself.
LittleBill: I make plenty of money, do I look like I need to hustle? What’s to say I’m even any good?
This is where the hipsters decide to judge.
Red Baseball Cap: You’re saying you don’t hustle with that cue?
(bear in mind I haven’t even removed it from the case)
LittleBill: No… why?
Ironic Mullet: I bet we make more than you do.
Red Baseball Cap: Yeah, how much money do you make?
LittleBill: Well that’s awfully rude.
Red Baseball Cap: Why’s it rude? Are you embarrassed?
Ironic Mullet: I bet we make more money than you.
(pause)
LittleBill: Individually or cumulatively?
(pause)
They go on for a few more minutes about me, about how I’m some obnoxious prick who won’t say how much money I make, so therefore I’m embarrassed.
Finally, my food arrives. I’m ordering to go.
LittleBill: By the way, I make $XXX thousand per year.
I wiped the smiles off their smug obnoxious faces.
LittleBill: Don’t ask if you’re not prepared for the answer. G’nite fellas.
…and walked out the door.