Behind the bowling alley, past the arcade games where there were a few guys eyeing each other and guessing at a man’s skill, his game. In the room upstairs, above the bar and grill, someone pretending to be a shark while sinking two balls with a break. A few cigarettes going, quarters in the slots, a beer and a game of eight ball between strangers.
They’re seedy and the tables are almost always uneven and the cue sticks bent, that’s part of the game.
Sometimes a shark is just the guy who knows which way the table dips.