My One Great Love

I pretty well lived at the pool hall back in my younger days, much to the grief of my good par­ents, who thought that such places were dens of iniq­uity where great and won­drous trans­for­ma­tions were car­ried out on young boys to make them turn from the Lord and smoke cig­a­rettes and curse and swear like old salts from the sea. It was a curi­ous sort of place for cer­tain; and one where the Lord was surely not safe. There was for sure lots of curs­ing and swear­ing and smok­ing of cig­a­rettes and there were occa­sional bouts of drink­ing and gam­bling, but I took the atti­tude early on that it was all in good fun — maybe not good, clean fun, but fun all the same. I rev­elled in it — much to the grief of my par­ents, who were prob­a­bly right in what they thought.

The pool rooms from back in my youth were what I think you’d call bas­tions of male machismo, where men hid from wives, and boys from their moth­ers, and every male of the species knew he was safe and secure from all things wom­anly. The old men con­tended that no female had ever set foot in the pool room where I got the bet­ter part of my learn­ing. I couldn’t prove that to be true, but my mother wouldn’t even go in the place to get my Dad his smokes when he was in hos­pi­tal for his ulcer. It was just that kind of place where one step inside could taint your soul for an etern­inty in the here­after — at least that’s what I’m sure my mom felt.

If you would like to read more, please pur­chase this story!

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