The ramblings of an incredibly lousy pool player. (This blog's about the grand old game of pocket billiards, not one of those pits Jethro Beaudine referred to as "cee-ment ponds." Duhhhhhh.)
Pool Tales and Other Stories by Ace Toscano
https://amzn.to/3UP808u
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
Pool Tales & Poems and Other Stories by Ace Toscano
I've spent a lot of time in pool halls, in fact I grew up in one, and along with my penchant for writing things down, this has led me to write more than a couple pool stories as well as several poems. Selfishly, good or bad, I didn't want them to disappear once I was gone, so I decided to combine them, along with several non-pool-related stories, into a single kindle ebook. Hopefully, they will find a lasting home in cyber space.
Labels:
Ace Toscano,
billiards,
literature,
poems,
pool,
stories
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Can’t Win For Losing
Someone said “Lawyer” and the pool hall conversation immediately drifted off course. After a few general derogatory comments were made, I saw an opening and decided to thrill the boys with my personal tale of woe. I told them about this sleaze bag New Jersey attorney I had gotten myself involved with while trying to settle my mother’s estate. I explained how, after I had concluded that rather than helping me get things done he was standing in the way, I fired his candy ass and asked him to return what I had coming of my $1500 retainer. I didn’t hear from him for two months, so I sent him another letter asking him to return what I had coming. He responds to this by sending a trumped up bill to my new lawyer in which he claims that I have not only used up my $1500 retainer but that I owe him another $1500 on top of that. Boston Bobby started shaking his head. “You never get that back – the retainer. They figure some way to get it.” Then he relates a story of how he had been arrested once on an aggravated assault charge only to have the charges dropped later when the star witness finally admitted she had misidentified him. Even though he had been a thousand miles away at the time of the alleged assault and the case had never gone to court and the charges were eventually dropped, he wound up paying $25,000 in legal fees. That, obviously, was a much better sleaze-bag-lawyer story than mine.
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