Another Friday night gig at the Red Star! Drums are tuned-up, as are my bandmates. Now to the bar for a quick pop … A voice: “Hey, asshole, you fucked up my shot!” “No, brother, I was nowhere near your arm. Look, I’m the drummer; I don’t want any trouble.” Time slows, with that familiar metallic taste. His three wingmen close. Fingertips caress a felt bumper, inches from the cue ball lying in wait. A question: “Are you sure this is what you want?” … It was a good show. But my tempos during the first set were too fast.
Konan Kaufman lives on the North Shore of Boston and was never good at pool.