At least I got out

If you are going to throw your drink at me, at least have the decency to do it to my face.
I went to the Empire Ballroom this night. It was actually one of the least stressful trips to a bar I’ve had in a long time. This was because I really did go with zero expectations. I was only going to go see a performer I enjoy. That was all. I didn’t plan on talking or making eye contact with anyone else. No anxiety attacks for me!
The show was an hour late, and it was enjoyable. The bar was filled with women that were much younger than me. Young enough that I didn’t find them interesting. Less stress!
However, after the show, I decided there was no reason to stay. I started making my way to the exit, having to fight through the crowds. There was a gorgeous girl behind me, and in the throng we got pushed around. I believe the pack made me bump into her, causing her to spill some of her drink on herself. I asked if she was okay, then continued on my way. Then I felt something wet go down my back. Apparently she was not okay.
Pfft.
Like I’m going to take anything personally from a girl wearing her dress backwards?

Of course, it might have just been some ice cubes she put down my shirt…
I’m a little behind in my social graces. Does that mean she likes me, or did that go out of popularity in kindergarten?