Hustle Me Read Online Free Page B

even lie and say that it was easy. None of it was. Sure, I started out with a couple grand saved up, but money spends fast and a grand won’t get you far.  
    The only thing I had going for me was the fact that I believed I was the greatest pool player to ever live and just having that attitude gave me the balls to go out and start hustling people for money. It sounds hard, but if you become good at lying, there isn't anything you can't lie your way into. It took me a few times to get the hang of it, but I became a pro at being someone else whenever I pulled out that pool stick.  
    Sometimes I would use a false name, but as I really started bringing in the cash, I wanted to be known for my accomplishments and went by Jammer. I learned real fast that using my own name would only allow me a couple nights in one given town before everyone knew what I was up to. Several times, I was kicked out of an establishment. Gambling isn't permitted and if you piss off the right people, your ass is getting booted out before you can even collect your winnings. I learned that the hard way too.  
     
    Luckily, in my travels, I'd run into several guys who were heavy pool players and they showed me a few tricks and ways to move from town to town without having to use any of my money. The best way was what they called Sugars.  
    Sugars were chicks of all ages that hung out in billiard halls and bars looking to hook up with a guy. They almost always had their own place and with just a little bit of fake swooning would provide food, sex, a place to sleep and sometimes even laundry services. Yeah, it's a dickhead move, but I didn't really care. If it saved me money, then I was going to hook up with a Sugar in every city. I didn't have to answer to anybody.  
    Still, every once in a while I would think back to my friend Joker, who had taught me so much, and asked me for very little. Regrettably, the time that I had been away had made it hard for me to be able to walk through those doors. I'd been a fool, also hell-bent on my ambitions to be the best, that I had taken him for granted. By now he must hate me.  
    When I walked in, there were a couple of patrons sitting at the bar. Since I had to take a leak, I walked back to the bathrooms first. It was funny, as long as I'd been gone, nothing had changed.  
    The walls were still dark colors and the door to the men's room still needed to be fixed, not that it was ever locked, but it was the purpose of having one that mattered. I also noticed that one of the sinks in the bathroom was out of order, as well as one of the urinals. It wasn't like Joker to get so behind. Once he was over scolding me for being away for so long, I would get on him about slacking.  
    Once I was finished with the facilities, I decided to walk upstairs and see Joker myself.  
    I'd walked up the stairs so many times that it almost still felt like home. Since they were located at the back of the bar, it was quieter and my footsteps seemed so loud as I worked my way to the top step.  
    I knocked three times and leaned back against the wall, unsure if Joker would hug me or punch me. I'd walked away from our friendship, just like I'd walked away from everyone that ever meant something to me. It's what I did whenever I started to get close. I couldn't handle the commitment of being responsible for someone else's feelings, even my friends.  
    When nobody came to the door, I started walking down the steps, but a soft voice made me freeze in place and turn around. A little kid, probably no older than five or six, stood there with the door cracked open. "I'm not supposed to open the door to strangers."  
    He spoke well for a little kid.  
    "Well, I'm not a stranger, buddy. I'm a friend of your dads. Is he here?"  
    "No."  
    I had to remember that I was dealing with a kid. "Do you know when he'll be back?"  
    He shook his head and closed the metal door without saying anything else. I wondered, at first, if Joker was in there