It's just that I don't know you.

It is very fortituous that I was set up with crankypants, because I am a spectacularly bad candidate to be picked up in a bar. When I go drinking with friends - that's exactly what I want to do. Drink with friends. Usually, all my friends are of the same mindset, so this works. I don't want to talk to strangers - even though I am all cute and animated and fun, that's because I'm talking to people I like. Not people I don't know. And people I don't know should not attempt to butt in on the conversation, because I don't want you to be a part of it. Maybe if you're Kelly Slater or Owen Wilson. Then you may be allowed to add your own opinions. But if you're not, then please go away. If you don't know me, you will not understand the sarcasm that is so much a part of my being. And then I'll seem mean. I'm not really mean, but you don't need to know that. I just don't want to talk to you.

Friday night, we were at a bar somewhere in the East Village or LES, I never remember the difference. I was catching up with an old high school friend, and we were having fun gossiping about people. Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw this tall hovering figure who looked like he wanted to join in on our all-girl fun. We kept our circle closed, so that he couldn't find a chance to participate. Then there was a lull in the conversation, and he made his move.

"Have you been to Spain?"

What in the world is he talking about? I thought. We definitely were not talking about Spain. We were not in a Spanish-themed bar. And I certainly was not talking to him. But I couldn't be outright cruel and ignore him, although I wanted to. I like to maintain some pretense of manner. So I answered his question.

"Yes."

Short, sweet, and to the point. Also, it did not encourage further discussion. Which was the idea. But of course he didn't take the hint.

"Where?"

Ratbastard, he wanted a conversation. I wanted to talk to my friends. Two different goals. No compromising.

"Madrid and Barcelona."
"Oh, Barcelona! My band performed there New Year's Eve."

Big whoop. Really, really, really, I didn't care. It was 3AM. And he wasn't one of the aforementioned celebrities. I sent my friends imploring looks, desparately asking for help. But they were too amused, evil people, to be of any use.

"Oh. What instrument do you play?"
"The guitar."
"Cool."

Waaah, get me out of here! He definitely wasn't American, while his English was gramatically perfect, as was his pronounciation, it was also a little too staccato - like the way Germans speak English. Maybe Germans don't understand my curtness. Damn. There was a long pause - I'm sure that he was thinking of another question to ask, so I turned back to my friends, closing the circle to outsiders. This did not stop him, however.

"Do you want to see my wine skin?"

I kid you not, that was the exact sentence that came out of his mouth. Wine skin. It sounds vaguely dirty. Could be fun. But it wasn't, it was just a wine skin. Who carries around a wine skin? Apparently, Germans do.

"Cool."

I attempted to close the circle again.

"Would you like a drink? A nice glass of ice water, perhaps? They serve a wonderful ginger ale here."

I must have heard wrong, but my friends confirmed that that's indeed what he said. But an offer of water or ginger ale? Maybe they have a second meaning in his mother tongue. Whatever it was, I didn't get it. Plus, that's not the way to entice me. I like real drinks, as befitting my alcoholic status.

"No, really, it's okay. I already have a drink."

And with that, I was determined to close the circle a third time. And it worked. Sort of. He just kept hovering behind me, like a bad version of my conscience. He was no more than 10 feet away from me the rest of the night. I couldn't shake him. And every once in awhile he offered to get me a drink.

Perhaps I could have been friendlier, it wouldn't have killed me. But that's not the kind of person I am, especially if I am in a I-want-to-catch-up-with-friends mood. Which I definitely was. There was no talking to new people. I'm not a friendly person to random unconnected strangers.

Sometimes, I really wonder how I make friends.