Original publication on Words That Stay in February, 2004.

Poets

After a brief silence, the all-too-familiar guitar riff drifted through the sparsely filled hall. Daniel smiled as he heard Monique groan, feigning pleasure at her discomfort. The truth was he was just as sick of hearing "Should I Stay or Should I Go" as she was. But it was more fun not to let this on.

"I swear that if people don't stop choosing this song," Monique promised through clenched teeth, "I'm going to run that dumb box through with my cuestick."

"Would you rather they play Willie Nelson?" Daniel asked, smiling. "I like The Clash."

"I like The Clash too," said Monique, "but I don't want to hear them every five minutes. There are other good songs in the world."

"In the world, yes. On this jukebox, no."

The South End Billiard Hall was infamous for having one of the worst jukeboxes in all of Hillsboro. A mixture of old country and adult contemporary, it was terribly out of date and entirely wrong for the crowd that the South End drew. Consisting of a disjointed mix of high school slackers and twentysomethings that were too poor or lazy to make the drive to Cincinnati, it wasn't the sort of group that went for Top 40. The Clash's Combat Rock, along with Social Distortion's self-titled album, comprised the hall's entire punk library. As a result, it was impossible to spend an hour at the South End without hearing "Rock the Casbah" and "Ball and Chain" played enough to ensure that you never wanted to hear the songs again.

Daniel and Monique had spent enough time at the South End over the past year to have memorized every single song on both albums, along with several songs off of The Rolling Stones' Sticky Fingers, which occasionally made their way into the mix. Friends since high school, the two had gone their separate routes after graduation, with Daniel moving to Indiana to attend Ball State University and Monique working her way through the retail ranks back home in Hillsboro. The pair managed to stay in touch over the five years that Daniel was in college, a feat often made difficult by a series of boyfriends and girlfriends that were collectively referred to as the "Mistakes." Now with Daniel once again living in Hillsboro, the two got together at least once a week, and could almost always be found splitting pitchers of Coors Light and complaining about the music at the South End every Friday night.

"Now if they only had some Aerosmith in the box," Monique suggested, "that would make this place a bit more bearable. I could tolerate hearing 'Janie's Got a Gun' a dozen times in a row."

"You know, we can always go someplace else," Daniel offered. "There are other things to do. Even in a sinkhole like Hillsboro."

"I'm aware of that. But kicking your butt repeatedly at pool is the perfect start to my weekend. I can't think of a better way to spend my Friday night."

Pool was never Daniel's favorite pastime, which had a lot to do with the fact that he just wasn't very good at it. Over the past year his game had improved, but it was still pretty sloppy, with most of his successful shots being driven by nothing more than pure luck. That Monique also insisted on getting Daniel drunk every Friday night didn't help matters much. Just as Daniel seemed to be getting the upper hand, Monique would order another pitcher, causing Daniel to wonder if perhaps Monique wasn't as good at playing pool as she was at playing him. With any other girl, he might have been offended.

Daniel had actually managed to steal one from her this evening, beating Monique in the first game after she inexplicably missed a bank shot, lining the cue up with the eight ball for an easy corner shot which even Daniel had no trouble making. Monique didn't repeat the mistake in the following game, quickly sinking all her balls before Daniel had managed to pocket even one of his. They were now tied at one game apiece, and as Daniel racked the balls, Monique attempted to get the waitress's attention so she could order another pitcher, their third.

"I don't know, Mon. I'm not certain I can help you finish another one tonight." Daniel's voice was uneasy as he spoke. Monique's tolerance for alcohol was much higher than his, and he had learned back in high school that trying to keep up with her when it came to drinking was never a good idea. Monique usually respected Daniel's attempts at moderation, but tonight she wasn't taking no for an answer.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Umm...about 10:30," Daniel said, looking at his watch.

"It's still early," Monique quickly responded. "We're not leaving anytime soon, are we?"

Daniel sighed and shook his head. He knew that he was probably going to regret this, but wasn't capable of producing much of an argument right now. He'd be fine provided he nursed his next beer. Besides, Monique was right, it was pretty early. He hadn't planned on getting home before one.

Monique ordered the pitcher and looked down at the table, then back up at Daniel, giving him a look of mock frustration.

"You realize that you're hopeless, don't you?" she said with a grin.

"You know, since you seem to be so picky about where each ball goes in the rack, maybe you should quit asking me to rack them and just do it yourself," Daniel responded.

"I would, but despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I still hold out hope that you can be educated."

"This from the girl who failed the only college course she took."

"You say that as if college and education had anything to do with each other," Monique said, grinning widely.

"Even if they don't, how on earth could you fail that class?" Daniel replied, smiling back at her.

"Same way you fail any class."

"Yeah, but it was drama."

"Yes."

"Drama!"

"I know what class it was, Daniel."

"You memorize lines, then say them in front of an audience. Most people could do that in their sleep."

"What can I say? I found it boring."

"College is boring, Monique. That's why employers are so impressed by degrees. They know a college graduate is capable of withstanding tedium."

"So, that's what the whole university thing is about? Withstanding tedium?"

"That's a big part of it, yes. At least, that's my theory. And none of my professors did anything to disprove it."

"Hell, I don't need to go to college for that. I can just give Carla a call. That will impress employers far more than a college degree."

Carla was Daniel's most recent addition to the Mistakes. A particularly controlling woman, he had ended his relationship with her a few months after graduation. Monique never liked Carla. Daniel was well aware of this, and knew that Monique was baiting him, but he was willing to play along.

"How so?" he asked.

"Simple. It will prove that I can withstand tedium just as easily as any college graduate, and it won't set me back the ten or fifteen grand that a university degree would, which shows I have an eye for the bottom line."

"Remind me why I hang out with you so often," Daniel prompted.

"Because I keep you sharp and I keep your ego in check. And because I'm the only person willing to overlook the fact that you're currently stalling on a table that we're paying for by the hour. Now will you hurry up and break?"

"It's my break?"

"You know it is! You lost the last game, which means that you get the first shot in the next one," Monique laughed in response, then quickly adopted a more serious tone. "Now, let's see if you remember what I told you. Place the cue in a spot that's comfortable for you. And make sure it's close enough to the end of the table for you to get some muscle behind the shot."

"I'm not sure I can do that. How about you come over here and help me?"

"Just shut up and shoot the damn ball," Monique said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, it's your funeral. You might want to duck."

Daniel lined up the break to the best of his abilities, then made the shot. With the unmistakable clack that Daniel had become so familiar with over the past year, the balls scattered across the table, reaching out to the six pockets, but not falling into them.

"Nice break," Monique said, picking up her cue.

"Yeah, but I didn't sink any of them," Daniel quickly replied. The dejection he was feeling was evident in his voice.

"That's okay. First work on spreading them out, then you can worry about sinking one. That was good."

Monique lined up a simple shot at one of the side pockets, easily dropping the four ball. She followed this with another simple shot, this time sinking the two in one of the back corners, before missing a table length shot, bringing the play back to Daniel. As he chalked up his cue the waitress brought the pitcher Monique had ordered. She paid the girl, a middle-aged blonde who looked as if she had spent a few too many nights in smoky rooms, then poured out two fresh glasses as Daniel surveyed the table.

"You're solids, right?" he asked.

"Yep."

"As usual, you left me no shot."

"Of course not."

Daniel missed his attempt to pocket the thirteen, and took several deep sips of Coors Light as Monique also missed her shot. Returning to the table, he finally sank one of his balls, dropping the twelve into the front corner with a strong shot that seemed to impress Monique.

"Hey, that's not bad! There's hope for you yet, young Skywalker," she joked.

"Yeah, it's called luck combined with intoxication. If that's what the Force is, then I'm a strong enough Jedi to lift this pool table out of Yoda's swamp."

"Come on, you're not that bad."

"I will be when I finish this."

Daniel grinned as he held up his glass, then took a deep pull. So much for nursing it, he thought.

Returning to the table, he missed his next shot, but managed to park the cue directly adjacent to the eight ball, making Monique's follow up shot difficult.

"Nice trick. Where'd you pick that one up?" she asked as she surveyed the table. Monique's face was serious, and Daniel knew that a variety of shots were being lined up and played out in her head. He watched her, intrigued, as she tightened her lips the way that she always did while thinking. She had a pretty face, with perfect skin and shimmering eyes. Her hair, which until recently had been red, was now black, giving Monique a look that was not unlike a young Bettie Page. Daniel smiled as he caught himself staring. It wasn't the first time. In fact, he had found himself looking at Monique much more frequently since returning back home, but she had never seemed to notice. Daniel wasn't sure if he was relieved or frustrated by this, only knowing that he seemed to favor the latter the more that he drank. Picking up his glass, Daniel slowly sipped his beer as Monique finally made a shot, just missing the ball she was aiming at.