As Good as the Next Guy

The pool table was in the back of the bar. It sat under a Budweiser light, and cigarette smoke curled and twisted its way through the light's glow.
Only two of us were playing. Jack and I.
I'd been making better shots than usual, had been getting better luck than usual, had played it cool better than usual.
I struck the cue and watched it dash across the felt to cut a stripe into the corner pocket.
"Nice shot," somebody said.
I didn't look up.
I lined up my next shot, an easier play this time. It went down with the same cool efficiency as the last.
I stooped down low to figure out my next move. I'm taller than most, so I really have to get down there.
"I could go for the 12," I thought, "but that shot could leave the cue off in a corner surrounded by his leftovers. I could..."
She pinched me on the ass. I popped up like a little Mary and any shade of cool I wore instantly evaporated. The guys all laughed.
She laughed too. She had a good one. A cool one.
"What are you tryin' to do to me, kid?"
"Get your attention," she said.
"It's yours, " I said, but I knew I had to finish out this game.
"Buy me a drink?"
"Maybe later," I said. "I really gotta win this one."
"You're winning?" She asked.
She looked sweet when asking, as if she really had no clue, but I could smell something a bit more devious on her. Even over the haze of smoke.
"I'm ahead, but I gotta put him away," I said.
"He any good?"
"Sure," I said. "As good as the next guy."
"But not better than you?"
The group around the table was looking at us. All of 'em impatient. Waiting for me to shoot, waiting to watch her pretty little body move. She just looked up at me, into me, and pretended she gave a damn.
I looked at her, at the faceless crowd around the table and at the mess of balls littering the clean green felt.
"I should probably shoot," I said.
"You do that," she said. She sauntered away from me with her head down, her hair over her eyes, but the group and I all watched as she went up to the bar.
Hurriedly, I lined up the 12, missed it, and watched as the cue ball settled into a cramp corner.
I looked down, vacant. Looked up, she waved, and really all I did then was stare.