I'll see you Sunday

Last night was Bar Night at The Stockman. It was a good night.

I had some conversations with a couple of my bar friends (maybe I should refer to them as my "bar parishioners"); nothing really too deep, just sort of checking up and seeing how they're doing.

One guy, John, decided that my drinks were on him.

Met a new guy who is or was (I never did get that clarified) RC. So he wanted some particulars about TEC: Do you have communion every Sunday? Do you believe in the real presence of Christ? Do you follow a lectionary? Can anyone receive communion? . . . . That kind of stuff. He let me know that he would like to show up at church. (As much as I like to hear this, over the years I have learned to just smile and say, "We'd love to have you," and take it all with a grain of salt.)

He challenged me to a game of pool and I accepted. I either won or lost (we never did get that clarified) because I called, "8 ball in the corner pocket after banking the cue ball off the far cushion," and the cue ball banked off the far cushion but then banked off the side cushion before dropping the 8 ball in the corner. So I made the shot, but didn't call the double bank. Hmmm ..... I guess technically I didn't win, but it was still a heck of a shot.

Then my new friend John offered to play me. I won the first game, he took the second, I took the third, and then he wanted one more game. We got down to the end and I've got the 8 ball resting about 1/8" off the side cushion with the cue ball about 12" from the 8 ball in what could best be described as looking like 9:25 on a clock. Option 1) run the cue ball down the table, bank it off the far end cushion to bring it back and put the 8 ball in the corner. Option 2) cut the 8 ball hard and hope I get enough power to run it down the rail into the corner pocket. I decided on Option 2.

"You make that shot and I'll go to church on Sunday."

The 8 ball didn't even touch the rail as it glided down the table and dropped into the corner pocket.

"I'll see you Sunday."

Yeah . . . it was a good night.