We’ll start with a funny Mark Barbee moment.
We were playing pinball in a biker bar in Tulsa. Some guy was waiting. When the game was over, Mark put another quarter in the machine. The guy voiced his discontent. Mark voiced his lack of concern in a humorous way.
The guy opened his jacket to show Mark his pistol.
Mark smiled, “I think I see your point.”
We retreated.
Some other night we had been impressing ourselves with our ability to order and consume doubles.
Mark had this weird way of playing pool better and better as a night went on. I think it was a little like fighting the practice droid with the blast shield down — your eyesight can only play tricks on you.
We were playing a couple of good ol’ boys. Their backs were against the wall when they left Mark with an impossible shot — the cue ball trapped behind one of their balls.
Mark hunkered down and prepared to jump the cue ball.
One guy said, “We don’t play that way in Oklahoma, son.”
Mark came back, “I play by federal rules.”
He jumped the ball, made the shot.
Victory.
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