Solids or Stripes?

Question: what the hell was so cool about playin’ pool? Was it the lure of the thick, Camel-filter laden smog that singed your eyes? Or perhaps the foul aroma emanating from some redneck in a tank top?? I can’t pinpoint it. But in the early nineties (right I guess about the time everybody started wearing shit kickers and belt buckles the size of my shoe) any and every local business that either specialized in billiards or just had a few warped tables was the place to be.

Okay first off, a Karns classic. Any joker that paid his or her respects to the mighty beaver will remember good ‘ole Benji’s Jr. Market and Deli (I think that’s the right name. My long term memory is scary) in front of Ball Camp Elementary. Now fess up how many times did you ditch school, (knowing you would have the obligatory Dennis McMahan recorded truancy spiel waiting for you on the answering machine) run to THE Hardee’s for a quick bite of breakfast, and head back to Benji’s for a quick game of pool on one of those shitty tables with cigarette burns? If you were lucky, maybe you could get Hodge (pronounced HODD-Gee) or one of his family members to sell you a pack of Marlboros (different days, different results). You could go to that joint at any given hour and see some idiot you knew playing nine ball thinking they were Paul Newman in The Color of Money. Of course, other “commerce” went down at the place--WE ALL ARE FAMILIAR WITH THAT--but mainly Benji’s was a place for teenage punks to go hang out and play a cheap game of pool.

Down a ways off Cedar Bluff, tucked away in what is now pretty much a useless strip of random shops, was Peggy and Bill's (ummm..restaurant??). Okay now this outfit wasn't as popular as Benji's, but it was still great none the less--for reasons I'm not quite sure of. Novice players would find the same old sub par tables residing at Benji's--you know, with dips and rivets galore--so it's not as if you were going for the quality of the equipment . It was kind of a shady joint too--looked like they might have had a gambling racket in the back there--that was sorely lacking in regular clientele. Seriously I don't ever recall seeing anybody in the place except high school kids--sometimes eating burgers and fries--but mainly playing pool in the "arcade." How this joint was discovered is beyond me. And why it became popular for a while is even more perplexing. Personally, I think during this time guys were just trying to find places with tables that hadn't been exposed to the bulk of the teenage crowd yet. Rest assured, however, once word spread about a NEW place to play, it wasn't long before you would pull up and see some jag-off's car parked outside. Sigh.


There were several others that deserve a line--like Prince's Deli and Leisure World-- but due to time constraints I'll have to use the last mention for a place near and dear to the heart: The billiards bliss known simply as Brunswick. Not only could you play by the hour on their 20 or so tables, you could also play dated , (not quite yet retro) worn-out video games like Rolling Thunder and Outrun. Hopefully, you had singles for change, because the asshole that worked the counter always got pissed off you when you made him get up and break a 5 (I mean, after all we were keeping him from the latest copy of Pro Wrestling Illustrated). Now it was either here or Leisure World where you would go if you really thought you were actually a pretty good player (you know chalking up after every shot with your whitish talcum-powdered hands as you coolly surveyed the layout of the table). Then you would precede to get your ass handed to you by a much wiser cue, who enjoyed taking money from teenagers who worked crappy fast food jobs (not that there was GAMBLING or anything allowed at such high-quality family entertainment centers). Regardless, if for nothing else, Brunswick was my personal favorite because of the wide spaces you had in between the tables. As we all know, there was NOTHING worse than bumping up against some smelly fat ass attemping a behind-the-back.

In my day I guess I was a pretty decent shot who was a little above average on my best nights. I could just never finish! I would be up three or four shots , start to get a bit cocky, shank some easy shots, and proceed to get waxed the rest of the match. I guess it was fun to play , and especially fun to win money (we would play big stakes---one, maybe even two dollars per game), but I just think of all the time that I, and countless others like myself, wasted leaning over a felt table. Oh well. Rack ‘em up.