My friends and I are bar-hopping (typical, I know...especially for this particular crew) through the Pearl District.
On the list for our first night in town:
McMenamins Ringlers Annex Cellar Bar
-it was extremely close to our hotel and the adorable bartenders here in the cellar bar served up a mean Old-Fashioned and hooked us up with the names of the three bars we went to next....
Low Brow Lounge
-very clearly the "Shady's" of Portland (a little Phoenix reference in there).
Then it was off to Valentine's (recommended by our barista at Stumptown) for some quirky hipster dj's and shitty drinks (sorry to say it, but the bartender sucked...and he was an asshole).
From here we went to the last on our list of recommendations, a youngish crowd style spot called Shanghai Tunnel. It was in this place that we discovered that Portland seems to have this thing for bars/restaurants that appear to the eye to be quite small, but then end up having some hidden huge room connected, or shanghai tunnel basement in this case. (If you don't know what a shanghai tunnel is, click here.)
The basement of this place was quite impressive. A TON of pinball machines lined one corner, and of course a table to play pool. This is where the subject of this post comes in.
My friends and I had been enjoying a drink and found a little spot to hover and get our bearings, when this middle-aged gentleman that had been playing pool strolled over and started chatting with me. It was innocent small talk, and he cordially invited me to play pool with him.
Now, I don't know about anyone else's pool skills, but when I've been drinking there tends to be a bit of a bell curve followed by a sharp decline as far as accuracy and skill level goes. I get going, get better, then rapidly SUCK ass.
Well, this guy didn't even give me a chance. I volunteered to break the rack (I was feeling at the top of my bell curve and highly confident at this point), which I did, and fairly well if I do say so myself. And that's where it ends. The guy didn't hustle me...he fucking sharked me at pool! I didn't get to shoot another ball the entire time. And the whole time he was spouting off some shit about how he's from Fargo. Yes....freaking FARGO!
After he royally kicked my ass, he proceeded to set up the balls to make a trick shot. Woohoo. I wasn't thoroughly impressed because at this point I was thinking, "Hmmmm..." I mean, we weren't betting anything, so why all the showing off. He was all by himself...maybe he just needed an ego boost or something? I sat around there the rest of the time pondering the inner workings of this man. I picture seeing myself with the raised-eyebrow "Huh?" face.
Luckily, about the time I was starting to get bored (and subsequently needed another drink), two other people came along for him to share his story with. Even better for him, is that these two were even more intoxicated than me and my friends were, so they were actually amused! I truly hope this guy from Fargo found whatever it was he was looking for from the sharking/hustling/etc. Damn show-off.
Song of the day: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" U2 (this one's for you...Eric...from Fargo)
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