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There was a little time before our restaurant reservation.
When I asked, “What should we do?” the answer was, “Let’s pop in somewhere.”
Before we knew it, we were opening the door of a pool hall.
We opened the door of the pool hall.
Still in the clothes we’d dressed up in, we picked up cues.
We weren’t really sure how to aim.
Still, we gave the stance a try.
Missed.
We both laughed.
A seat with a view of the night.
At the restaurant, we ate good food.
Each time a glass was empty, we filled it again.
Outside the window, Yokohama at night spread out.
When I said, “Still annoyed about that one,” back came, “Want to go again?”
One more time.
Somehow, we were back at the pool hall.
We were more serious than before.
Aiming, missing, a frustrated look.
That look was a little new to me.
The moment one went in, a small “Yes.”
Somehow I liked that smile more than the one at the restaurant.
We returned the cues and sat side by side at the counter.
Glasses in hand, we said nothing for a while.
From some table, the sound of balls colliding.
Then the low sound of a ball swallowed by a pocket.
Not at home, not at karaoke, not at the movies — just side by side, somewhere else.
For a little while, I watched that profile.
The way home.
On the way home, our hands had found each other.
Only after I got home did I notice I hadn’t looked at my phone once all day.
👉 Tired of karaoke? Make your next date pool.
👉 See the Yokohama Billiard Hall Guide
👉 Billiards resources from Japan and around the world, organized by purpose: Billiards in Depth (latest updated hourly)
