Floating down Alberta St. we’re in the flow amidst a slow moving stream of humanity all of us lazing on a Sunday morning. We have a vision: drinks and pool and extras willing to be in our movie but it’s got to happen organically so when we stop looking that’s when we find it, a warm and welcoming place called Bink’s. 

We are greeted from behind the bar by Babs, a woman in her mid-30s with brown hair in bangs that falls just past her shoulders and frames a round face lit up with a mischevious smile. Her sparkly brown eyes peer out from behind a pair of slightly too large square-ish glasses. “What’ll it be guys?“ Do we really have to think about it? Bloody Mary’s all around. The football game is on a small tv above the bar so we order a pizza and settle in. Babs is sweet and easy going and slips easily into our banter. She’s a veteran bartender who could listen patiently to all of your problems but have no problem showing you the door if you’ve had one too many. A handful of folks begin to drift in, including this affable guy who tells us that he had made it as far as AA in the A’s farm system. Hmmm. He would proceed to drain a continuous stream of 16oz PBRs throughout our stay. A small side room flooded with sunlight is just large enough to fit a pool table so we head inside. We drain the Bloody’s and order a round of tequila shots, a preview of things to come.

About halfway through our first game a young African American guy comes in, we notice he’s brought his own pool cue with him. He writes his name on the chalk board next to the cue rack then sits down quietly off to the side looking at his phone and not interacting with us. When our game is over we decide to invite him to join us. Amari is his name, he’s only 27 and already a father of three! We double up, me and Amari vs Mitch and Andy. Mitch goes to the bar and orders  another round of shots. Amari is a diminutive sort, easy going with an impish grin.  As the games progress, he goes from being an extra to a full blown co-star in our zany little movie. With Amari’s technical assistance I sink the eight ball on tricky bank shots two games in a row. This is the best pool I’ve ever played. Mitch goes to the bar and orders another round of shots, this time he adds an extra one for our new co-star. We call Babs over for a few selfies. As the sun progresses west the light in the room becomes more intense, more golden. We switch partners, rack ‘em up and keep playing. Mitch goes to the bar and orders another round of shots. Drunk during the day is how we roll on our weekends together. Andy and I are feeling no pain for sure but Mitch is really hammered! He keeps asking “Are we stripes or solids?” When he’s driving the bus, look out! Mitch sinks some crazy ass shot to win a game and falls to the floor in ecstasy, arms and legs splayed, pool cue at his side. We keep playing, we keep getting drunker By now Amari is fully indoctrinated into our vortex of hilarity. Mitch orders more shots. Babs is about to cut us off and asks who’s driving. We tell her Uber so she relents.I ask her not to bring me a shot, I’m somehow still able to exercise a shred of good judgement.

The pool “tournament” reaches its conclusion with us all sloppy drunk, hugging and laughing along with our new co-star in a room so flooded with sunlight as to look divine. We bid Amari and Babs farewell and stumble out into the crisp brightness of late afternoon. Somehow we’re sweating but not to worry as Amari gifted his hand towel to Mitch who every few minutes dabs our brows to keep them dry. Progress is hilariously slow. When Mitch, Andy and I get into a space like this time slows way down and I’m able to truly be in the moment, appreciating everything and open to whatever comes our way.

Did we really go into yet another bar? We sure did. A woman who was probably 80 years old comes out of the door moving with a walker. She tells us she has a crush on the bartender. Whatever. We go inside and order more drinks. Why? Because clearly we have not learned from experiences of the past. At this point things are very foggy. We somehow manage to play a game of pool and take photos in a photo both. Mitch continues to mop our brows. It’s all an exercise in hilarious insanity but when  Mitch breaks a shot glass we realize that it’s time to leave. As the credits roll we stumble out into the early evening, three brothers on the bus to our next adventure.