No Sense of Humor

Yesterday after work I went to a happy hour I was invited to by a woman I'm slightly acquainted with in the office. She seems nice enough. She's invited me to several happy hours and, for one reason or another - couldn't find parking one time, or didn't feel up to it, or something else came up - I've never gone. But yesterday's was at Doc's on South Congress, close to work and close to home, and I had nothing else going on. So at 5 I biked on over and joined the group.

It turned out that, besides this woman, there was only one person I knew slightly from work, and he's kind of a weird creepy guy, with a soft voice and sticky eyes. Once a few months ago he showed up at a work-sponsored blood drive while I was lying on the table, and he picked the table adjacent to mine, and lay down with the top of his head so close to the top of my head that I could feel warmth coming off him. I was a little creeped out. I didn't really want to hang with this guy at happy hour.

Everyone else there was family of this woman, who happens to be Hispanic. They were friendly, but she had two rather obnoxious male cousins, who made lots of stupid jokes, and actually shouted at a couple of women passing by on the sidewalk - which the women in the group seemed to think was pretty funny. I don't think I've ever been a member of a group that did that before! Still, they seemed very pleased with themselves. "Hey, Madonna! Madonna!" they yelled after a girl who walked by in a white lace dress and cowboy boots. The woman who had invited me was in the bathroom, but when she got back, they told her what they had done. She laughed. "You guys are just crazy," she said affectionately.

I was working pretty hard on my second beer, kind of anxious to finish it and get home, when the cousin sitting across from me waved and called out to his cousin across the bar, sticking his arm straight out. "Hey, it looks like the Nazi wave," he said, laughing. "Hey, Joe! Joe! Heil!"

He turned to me, still laughing, this guy I've never even met before. "So do they do that a lot in your family?"

. . .

"Not really," I said, not smiling, and I closed out my tab and said my goodbyes ("Why are you leaving so early?" the woman I work with asked) and left. Remind me not to go to any more happy hours with these people. But perhaps she won't invite me anymore anyway. Clearly I can't take a joke.