Last night I went down to the corner bar with Hammerpants and his GF, who I threaten to call Hammerskirt. I don’t know we’ll find a name for her later, not the point of this story.

So I get there first and notice a woman in the corner. She’s in her 50s and is obviously drunk off her ass. Next to her is some guy, as drunk as she is. This woman keeps trying to… well… dance along to the music.

All right, they were playing some metal. She was holding up her hands, fists closed but for index finger, each one pointing out, and moving her hands up and down. To the beat. I wanted to cry or laugh or something. I didn’t.

So Hammerpants and GF show and the woman and her friend get up and start to walk around the bar.

They’re stopping at every single person and saying hello. Each person. Hello, how are you, etc. Shaking hands and telling everyone that they were, in fact, going around the bar to everyone.

Well, they got to us eventually.

And the woman smiled at Hammerpants and said “Who are you?” and he replied and she shook his hand. And then she looked at his GF and said “Who are you?” and she replied and got a hand shook. And then the woman looked at me.

“What are you?” she asked.

I blinked. She blinked. “Who are you?” she asked, but her smile had drooped a bit. Yeah. So there you go. I am so wonderfully hideous I am now mistaken for “Other” on the Human chart.

And to think I bothered to shave.

For the rest of the night Hammerpants would randomly turn to me and grin. “What are YOU?” he would ask and laugh.

“I don’t rightly know,” I would tell him each time.

Yeah.

Yeah.