His accent was so thick I could hardly understand him. "you wanna play?" he was holding a pool cue out towards me. "I can't" I said "i'm terrible at this game." he moved closer, I could smell work and roading on him. His breath smelled of beer. "No, you play" he said "you are a good looker" his fingers jabbed two fingers at his own eyes then at mine like an Indian scout from a bad Western. I smiled, "oh, well then I definately can't play, I'm blind as a bat" I laughed. He came closer still. So close our noses almost touched. He was looking into my eyes, his brow slightly puzzled "your eyes" he said "you are a good looker, you play with me" "all right then" I said, taking the cue, his hand moved down and cupped my right butt cheek and squeezed "good" he said "you good looker"