Friday night Crockett and I spent a couple of hours at a locals bar in Avon. They had the Sabres game on tv, wheat beer on tap, and we didn't have anything else to do. When the game was over, I walked up to the counter to settle our bill. One of the three guys already there said something I didn't hear and gestured in front of him. I thought he'd offered to let me go first, so I said 'no thank you, I'm fine'.
Apparently he'd actually offered me a shot, and in my rejection you'd think I'd done the rudest thing EVAH. They were flabbergasted, and one of them immediately accused me of walking up all fancy and thinking I was too good for them.
I explained that I'd misheard them and attempted polite conversation, but the one who'd called me fancy would just not let it go. His more polite friend asked my name and told me his, and Mr. Cranky Pants seriously said "I'd tell you my name was Jason, but you'd probably be more impressed" at this point he started faking some bizarre accent "if I talked like this and told you it was Fabio".
He proceeded like this for the several minutes it took them to settle their bill. It was the oddest social experience I've had in several years. He was being outright rude to me, under the guise of wanting to impress me. He brought up his Irish heritage and accused me of not liking it. He essentially said that I didn't belong in that bar. Crockett couldn't hear any of this, and he just thought I was making new friends.
I still don't understand what happened. I don't know if he was just raring for a fight, or if he was hitting on me in a misguided as all fuck manner. Either way, he made my night roughly 10 times more awkward than it needed to be. Awesome.