Sulley's Opening

Sulley’s Opening

FauxNe

         Another Friday on 3^rd St, both sides of the street teeming with normal afternoon activities of the locals. Mother’s stopping at the store with kids in tow, getting enough food for the weekend. Street vendors line up on the curb outside each store pitching their fresh vegetables. Every store and sidewalk vendor had a relationship with each of the families that bought their goods. For the most part, you got some things at the store and other things from the vendors. Times were good right now and Joe could feel it in the air as he walked down the block with his freshly pressed suit, the Italian loafers knocking on the sidewalk.

         3^rd St, roughly a two mile section of the street down the hill near the bay, had turned into a thriving community in the years after the war. Shops lines the streets while families settled into the apartments above, work and jobs had been readily available for the past few years now. And the community liked to spend the money they earned in the clubs that were located at every corner. Usually there was one club at every intersection, with a few located in between the shops in the middle of the block. Each place was usually named after the owner with a few that had their own original names, and every one made their money by serving the locals that were able to drink and be within walking distance to their homes.

         It was in these clubs where Joe was a king, the undisputed local champion of the pool tables. There was never any shortage of players as this was the preferred game of most men during this time. And Joe would beat every single one of them. It never started this serious, he mostly played friendly matches while having a good time.

No one really knew where Joe came from or how he got his money for that matter, he simply walked into Dario’s one night and started playing. At least that’s what everybody says, and that was that. Now Joe was a celebrity that people sought out to try and beat as some sort of ongoing competition. The one thing that stood out about him to everybody, was that he would never turn down a bet. Some people saw this as a weakness which was their mistake.

         This is how money and bets slowly became the focus of every club where winning was viewed as status symbol. By this time everyone knew Joe’s face as he walked down the street on a busy Friday afternoon. Every vendor showing their respect as he walks by.

“Joe I got some fresh tomatoes next week….big as your fist.”

“Here Joe take some carrots and zucchini, I picked them this morning. Don’t worry you can pay next week.”

         Every vendor with their own line, and every time Joe would smile and keep walking slowly taking puffs on his cigarette. When going by the butcher’s shop, George, a Greek giant with logs for arms comes walking out with a smile peeking out from his bushy mustache and bloody clothes.

“How ya doin Joe?”

         Once again Joe smiles while taking a drag but his time he stops walking as he expects George has something to say.

“You playing at Peregino’s tonight? I’m looking to get my money back from last week.” Says George with a boisterous laugh.

“Not tonight George, I am going to play at the new club out on the end of 3^rd.” Replied Joe as he throws his smoke into the street and lights another.

“Oh that new place they been workin’ on? I heard they’re going to have more tables than chairs to sit in. I didn’t know they opened.”

“That’s what I’ve heard but I’ll find out when I get there.” Joe was really never one for conversations.

“So what’s the place called?” George quickly asked.

“Sulley’s.” Joe quickly replied.

“Yeah that’s a long walk but it sounds like that’s where the action is tonight. Maybe I’ll head out with the misses. And maybe you’ll run into that new player that everyone has been talkin’ about.”

“Who?” Joe finally changed his expression with genuine curiosity.

“AH, so big George knows more than Joe,” he said with his bellowing laughter, “all I know is that it’s a young guy named Charlie. Some people say you might actually lose some games now.”

“Is that right?” Joe’s face return with his trademark expressionless smile.

“I guess we’ll find out, see you later George.”

         With that said Joe keeps waking down the block, enjoying all the activity as the afternoon slowly turns to twilight…..

         ……….

         …

“Joe.”

“C’mon Joe.”

“Hey…”

Joe slowly comes to, his cigarette burnt down to the filter. He slowly looks around to see an empty hall with 7 pool tables. The bright light shining onto the tables blurs his vision for a moment.

“I don’t think anyone going to play tonight Joe.” Said Sulley as he gathered up Joe’s bottle, glass, and ashtray.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Said Joe as he puts his cue in its case.

Another moment passes with only the sound of Sulley’s shuffling feet drag across the floor.

“Times aren’t what they used to be….” Joe statement barely audible as he lights his smoke.