How to meet people.

Ok. well, this is going to be a pretty short one, for reasons that will become painfully apparent in just moments from now.

Tonight, I went to see my friend's improv show, (a friend! a friend!...oh god, what have i become..) How exciting for me. It was in the back room of a bar, and he was running a little late to meet me, which meant that I was on my own at the bar, for 20 minutes or so. I think we all know by now that this idea doesn't really faze me, if anything, in the last two weeks I have become a champion lonely bar sitter. My only problem is that I am perhaps too good. Looking around for amusement I noticed that all three guys sat next to me had bar mats on top of their beers. Intriuging, my brain thought, why would this be? I poked the nearest one, and asked the the fairly straightforward question, 'Hello, hi. So, why do you guys have beermats on top of your beers?'
Now. The answer the guy gave was entirely normal. He was clearly a very normal nice person, who had come to a bar to watch the game. He told me, in all politeness, it was because that way, the waitress would know not to take them away if they left the table. Sadly, I wasn't really listening, as my mind had already jumped to what I assumed was the natural conclusion, and that, frankly, was all I needed to know. So instead of say, 'ok cool, well thanks a lot!' I nodded my head thoughtfully, and replied 'yeah yeah, and avoiding date rape, I suppose.'
I don't know if you've ever gotten the word 'rape' into the second sentence of an off the cuff conversation, but apparently that was a bit weird. Unfortunately, I had nowhere to go but the inner recesses of my brain, and seeing that my statement had sunk like Aladdin in that bit where he sinks, down I was going. 'haha' I said, realising that I had to say something followin the word 'rape', and not just let it hang in the air, 'But luckily for me, I brought my darts as well as my pills, so you're still not safe, PEEOOWWW, straight in the neck there.'
Straight in the neck there. Oh god. what the hell is wrong with me.
One of the men, the one who had been listening, took pity on me at this vital stage in my self-trauma, and laughed in a sympathetic-ok but be quiet now, you've just said the word rape quite loudly in a crowded bar- kind of way. But I was gone. Jesus. I wasn't even drunk.
Skillfully steering me away from the rape area of the conversation market, he tried to tell me about the rules of basketball, as there was a game on one of the screens, and went so far as to tell me that I should support Orlando, and not Boston, because Boston were bastards and deserved to die. I was so relieved at his use of the word 'die', -at least slightly inappropriate, I figured,- that I gratefully countered with 'Ah, yes, those Boston savages, I'm pretty sure one of them raped my grandma'.- why couldn't I get off rape? He laughed dutifully, and I began to feel like everything might be ok. However. He then pointed to another man, a man I had yet to talk to- YET TO TALK TO- this will become important very soon- and told me that he, the heathen, was a Boston fan. Now, in the world of bar-ish banter, it seemed unlawful to simply leave it there. So I, oh god why did I do this, I hadn't even had half a beer, looked the new man in the eye, his Boston loving eye, and said, by way of introduction-
'hey there, were you the man who raped my grandma?'

There are some things that you just should never ever say when trying to form an aquaintance, and tonight I discovered a couple of what those things were. Safe to say, I decided to depart from that section of the bar fairly quickly, and skipped onwards, to try my luck elsewhere. I'm so sorry, man I never got to talk to. No one should have to deal with that at 10pm on a Tuesday. Oh Lorks. Thank God I'm not a man. I would probably be in prison right about now.