Another day, another dollar. Sharky was an able man. He played the game he loved and made a decent living from his in house classes. Tournaments were still a thing, yet he was being seen less and less in big money games.

Still, his ability to see an opportunity and the willingness to throw caution into the wind was what kept him ahead of the pack. Most pool halls were about the game, pure and simple. Why wouldn't it be?

But not here. Not in the countries second most active billiards city. And not in its most lucrative enterprise. It had a tenth of the tables the bigger joints had yet the books, the monthly takings, were ahead of the game.

How? Well how else. By doing some shady shit on the side. The tables were straight, the game most played here was straight pool, but the people who came and went were crooked as they came.

It was reminiscent of a life abundant throughout the country. The life of not giving a fuck what you were told to do but instead just doing what came naturally. Flipping off authority to the tune of providing services the men and women were in need of and were crying out for? Oh so natural. A willing and able supply to a loud demand.

Sharky's lived openly in that space, and where most authorities were yet to even sniff at let alone the average patron. What exactly did they provide beyond the atmosphere of cue's, balls, felt and chalk? Well there was only one way to find out.

Sharky's, New York. Rack 'em up!

"Sharky's" She says under her breath. Why did this name stick with her. Was it the man, was it the name? It certainly wasn't the joint since she has not been there yet. Not being able to put a finger on why she was drawn to such an establishment she jotted down the name in her note pad for later.

"Seraph I will be sure to check out Sharky's the next time I visit the fine city of New York. I'm not much of a pool player myself, but perhaps there are other things that will keep me entertained."