Down at The Pub

Yesterday I got to Meet The Locals.

I went to the Sunday afternoon Pool Tournament. It’s a small enough town that everyone mostly uses nick-names. There’s Jeffery, who live up the road just a bit, who’s sort of a bit of a handy-man. There’s Doug, the farmer, who everyone calls Farmer, of Fat Farmer. There’s another man, who drives the ice-truck, so everyone just calls him Freeze.

They men have a uniform; coveralls which are mostly a royal blue, but turn into Construction-Warning Orange at about mid-chest. They even have little name-patches on them (for their nick-names, obviously).

After the tournament was over, I got to play a quick doubles game, and managed to really distinctly not suck.

All in all, it was a quite good showing.

I am so happy to be here.

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