Dominic could feel the bemused expression on his face as he watched the pool hall attendant walk away from him, then he turned it towards Gene, suppressing a smile as best he could. "Well. I guess I now know how to properly arrange my balls," he announced dryly and laughed, leaning his hip against the pool table and removing the triangle from around said balls as he did so.
He and Gene had barely got themselves situated at the pool table against the wall, on the far side across from the bar and one away from the one right next to the jukebox, when the guy had come sauntering over, objecting to the way Dominic had been arranging the balls in the triangle. He\'d chastised the young American Samoan and bustled in to give him a three minute explanation as to the various ways he could arrange the balls, according to the accepted rules of the game.
Dom had pretty much just blinked down at the weedy little guy most of the time, nodding and trying not to laugh at the somewhat surreal experience of being lectured by a \'pro\'. Given that all Dominic had ever cared about was getting the black ball in the centre of the triangle, he\'d taken the lesson equably, hoping he\'d remember - but doubting he would. He was glad the guy was gone now, though, so his night could get properly underway.
"You want to break?" he asked Gene, nodding at the far end of the table. "Probably best for you to. Seeing as how you can\'t get too far away from that stool of yours. Obviously." The dig was accompanied with a smirk that showed he was joking, though Gene certainly hadn\'t been in a rush to get in the mix of the little man bumping up against Dominic and flicking balls around inside the triangle like a zealot. Gene had sat on his stool, watching patiently and minding their beers, which sat in front of him atop the tall table stationed against the wall by their pool table. Dom had shared a few glances with his companion, over the head of the pool pro, and had received no assistance for his silent pleas.
Gene was good value, though, so he didn\'t really begrudge the guy for not jumping in. It had probably been very amusing to see a huge guy like him getting lectured by a greasy-haired, moustache-sporting pool hall rat - to the point where he\'d not known what to say. Dom considered he might\'ve done the same thing, if their roles were reversed.
It had been a week that Gene had been working for Dom now, and he was quietly so impressed with the guy that he\'d already decided that Gene was the best risk he\'d ever taken. Bar none. They\'d met when Gene had moved into his dowdy little apartment complex, when Dom had been unloading gear from his truck last Friday, in fact, and Gene had just walked up to him and asked him if he needed any extra workers. Just like that. Dom had looked him over, noting that he looked like he was no stranger to hard work and they\'d started up a conversation about what sort of experience Gene would bring to a landscaping firm. His smile had been almost cocky as he started explaining and Dom had liked that about him.
During the week, Gene had proved himself a fast learner, a dedicated worker and entirely professional. The last had been a bit of an issue for Dom - which he\'d admitted straight up - because he\'d not been sure about hiring a neighbour to work with him. What if it didn\'t work out and he had to fire him? What if work stresses started affecting his home life? Not to mention the fact that his home was where he occasionally brought guys, what if Gene saw that and it changed his opinion of his younger boss? It had all spelled awkward and dangerous in the beginning for Dom, but Gene had seemed desperate and sincere enough that he convinced him to at least trial him.
A week later, Dominic was very glad that he had, though he hadn\'t yet said as much to Gene. That\'s what tonight was about. The week\'s trial was up - the week\'s work was done - and Dom had asked Gene if he wanted to head out after work for a couple of beers and to talk. He hadn\'t said about what, but it was pretty obvious to them both that Gene\'s permanent employment was on the table for discussion.
After they\'d finished up their last job - though Dom planned to go around to the house tomorrow, just to check the cement was drying as it should - he and Gene had gone back to their apartment complex (it\'d made sense for Dom to drive him to and from work every day) and showered. Dom had pulled on some old, comfortable blue jeans, an olive green T-shirt with a surf-style design on the front in creams and browns and some boots. He\'d taken a little time to dry and wax his short hair before he\'d applied some cologne, pulled his silver necklace on top of his snugly-fitting shirt and met Gene at his truck. They\'d taken about the same amount of time and Dom was pleased that Gene had insisted he drive tonight, since Dom had done all the driving through the week, and Dom was pretty happy with the venue Gene had chosen, too.
Until little pool hall man had got in his face and messed with his balls, anyway. Then, he\'d just found his whole Friday night was looking slightly more amusing and a little bit stranger than he\'d anticipated, but that was alright. What was a night out with a buddy if there wasn\'t going to be plenty of laughing?
