So, What You're Saying Is That You're Mad?

I'm generally pretty good about realizing when I piss people off.

One time, I ate JennyJenny8675209's leftover cheeseburger that she intended to give to Wonder Dog Bean. And, once when I was six I called my sister "thunder thighs" without realizing exactly what that meant. Then there was that time I fucked my ex-boyfriend's best friend.

Yeah. That was no good.

But, I understood that they were upset, which unwound me, and I did my best to make amends.

So, I was a little surprised today when I sent out a mass text message requesting some of my friends' e-mail addresses and recieved a hearty, "Fuck Off!" from an acquaintance.

Now, to be fair, this guy has a history of mental imbalance, as do most of my friends. But I honestly could not recall any trespass against him. Even Janee (accent above the final e) drew a blank.

Our connecting factor, though, was that he and I were regulars at my all-time favorite watering hole, Joseph's Bar and Grill on 6th Street in Canton, Ohio. It's affectionately known as Joe's to anyone who cares about it.

Point is, chances are good that the last time we saw each other, I was in the cups. But, I'm a very happy drunk, not one to start any rabble rousing, so it seems unlikely that I would have committed any offense deserving of a simple, solid, "Fuck Off!"

Hmm.

In the Comments section, tell me what you think I did. The winner gets a punch in the face from me. Just kidding--that's exactly what I DON'T do when I'm drinking. You're more likely to get a pat on the bottom.