settling up my tab at The Fifth Season, this older man to my left just-a-grinnin’ wants to be chummy. He slaps my back and says something like “having a good time?” and proceeds to give me a strong handshake, only he doesn’t wait for my had to get into the handshake position and squeezes the shite out of the index, middle and ring finger of my right hand.

“that’s quite a handshake you got there,” I exclaim in pain, over the noise of the middle aged house band playing something inappropriately current, like Nelly. Last call is at an unwelcomed 12:30.

the man on my left responds, “my daddy always told me you better have a strong handshake,” and some unintelligible speech that sounded a lot like what you hear at the end of the Dukes of Hazard theme song when Roscoe P. Coletrain goes, “them Dukes, them Dukes, them Dukes” *snicker noise*

He talks to a woman passing by which sets him up to tell me,
“I asked this woman to dance, and she told me no. I asked her if she had a husband or a boyfriend. she told me both!”

I started to finish the punchline with him, as i saw it coming from a distance