For the record, it is not possible to pick up a chick while getting punched in the face on a pool table.
samskara:
Picture the scene: Wednesday morning in the Volley. Me and Tommy are playing pool. No problems, and I'm playing like Paul-Fucking-Newman by the way. I'm giving the boy the tanning of a lifetime. So anyway, it comes to the final ball, the deciding shot of the tournament: I'm on the black and he's sitting in the corner, looking all biscuit-arsed. Then this hard cunt comes in. Obviously fancied himself. Starts looking at me. Right fucking at me. Trying to put off, like, just for kicks. Looking at me as if to say, "Come ahead, square go." Well, you know me, I'm no lookin' for trouble but at the end of the day I'm the cunt with the pool cue and I'm game for a swedge. So I squared up, casual like. So what does the hard cunt do, or so-called hard cunt? Shites it. Puts down his drink, turns around, and gets the fuck out of there. And after that, the game was mine.