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Hi all. I've got a really special treat today. With Shy's & madcanadian's permission, I've posted what you're about to read below.

Please read the story in the sequence as I'm presenting them. It will be so much cooler, and my blog will make sense. Don't just skip what they've done for what I'm writing, it'll totally ruin it. Have some discipline and read theirs first. :) Trust me!! Click on Shy's link, and after reading it, hit your back browswer button to return here. Then read madcanadian's link, and come back. Finally, read mine.


First, from Shy. http://www.interlog.com/~shireen/imode/ipast/2001/feb02.htm

Now madcanadian. http://madcanadian.server101.com/shout/s010201.html

....Across the dingy pool hool, I sit with one leg hanging off the side of a lounge chair; waiting for my opponent to inevitably miss. The rythmic clinking of pool balls hitting each other lulls me to a meditative state. In my semi-hynoptic trance, I look up, again searching for the girl several tables away from me, the same one that madcanadian pointed out from earlier.

I look at her, judging her not as a whole, but as part of some Frankinstein-ian parts beauty contest. Lips, painted dark red, too perfect. Make-up is okay, but too pale for my taste. Hair, straight and black, with a hint of volume. Nice. Cute white T-shirt and dark black jeans. Sexy, but not overtly sexual. Then I see her eyes, and I look at nothing else.

I can't describe it, except it reminds me of a pool of radiant blackness. Cliche? Maybe, but that's what they were. I can't stop staring at her eyes, and I can't fake it enough to pretend I'm not staring at them. I better stop, before I get caught looking the fool. One last look, and I notice she's a smoker, and instanteously, her beauty goes down a grade.

madcanadian misses and swears, signaling for me to shoot. I gather my senses and concentrate hard, until there's nothing but the object ball, the pocket, and my cue on the white ball. I take aim, feather the cue, and bam, it goes straight in. I'm proud of myself, and I look over to madcanadian, seeing if he noticed how easy I made that shot. But he's not paying attention to me.

He too is looking at the girl I was before, but not with the same lust that normal 20ish year olds with raging testosterone would. Instead, I can see distain, and a hint of sadness. Then, without warning, he smiles.

Worrying more about my reputation and ego as a serious snooker player, I ignore for the moment everything else that's around me. I chalk my cue tip, and I bend down for what seems to be an easy black. The flash of madcanadian's smile is still in my mind's vision, and for one second, I think of what could make him grin like the Chesire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

In that one second, I miscue, and mess up my pot. I look up, disappointed, wanting to curse. Then I catch what he's been looking at. The girl at the table 2 away from us, with a group of rowdy friends, wearing gang colours.

No more than grade 11, too young for me. But you could already tell she was going to be popular, and that on looks alone, she would go places. Yet, she somehow didn't fit that crowd. Quiet, intelligent, with a hint of mischievous glint in her eyes. Thank gawd she's too young for me, I could get in trouble with the likes of her.

Several games pass by, and each time I'm shooting, madcanadian is looking her way. Usually, we order a plate of fries, and like the proverbial vultures, we would peck and hog each fry, trying our hardest to swallow the much too hot and overfried potatoe sticks before they were all devoured. This time however, his portion of the fries were left cooled.

I turned to him, taking a break from my small four ball run. "Dude, you gonna eat them fries or what?"

He looks at me, dumbfounded for a brief moment, like I've just asked him something profoundly stupid. "Yeah. By the way, I'm still 20 points up."

"Maddy, you like that chick?". Classy men we were not.

"She's alright." shrugs Mad, his too quick answer betrays his true thought.

"Yeah," said I, with a hint of raunchiness in my voice. "She's more than alright....."

"Shut up, you perv." laughs Mad. "She's much too young for either of us."

"Maybe, but she'll grow up."

"Yes," agrees Mad, with a small longing in his voice. "I guess she will."
----------------------

When I first read Shy's post, I was pretty impressed. Then, unknowingly, I went to mad's site, and WHAM, I got the willy nilly, heeby geebies. How odd that they had intersecting lives and didn't even know it. Then I thought of a great little round up to their story. I hope you'll enjoy it, I was definitely having a blast thinking it up.

....Pulp Fiction it might not be, but darn, it's better than most trash on TV. posted by losir at 12:50 AM