Last night...

 ...thinkin' 'bout last night.  (Traveling Wilburys, anyone?)

Yeah, decided to forgo the bar tonight to minimize the chances of starting an international incident like I almost did last night...thinkin'  'bout last night...

I'm the only anglo at the bar.  There were two other patrons, both well on their way.  We yelled pleasantries across the bar, I laughed at their jokes that I couldn't understand.  They got that I was from the US.  Then Paul, the really drunk one, decided I needed another beer.  Now.  Mine was only half gone and I tried to say no, but noooooooo.  The poor barmaid gave me the look as she put the bottle in front of me, unopened.  "Let me know when you want one and I'll get you  a cold one."  

More pleasantries that I couldn't understand.  Then Paul decides I need yet another beer.  "Put it on my tab!"  The barmaid rolled her eyes and set a second unopened beer in front of me.   Meanwhile I opined that I had become a real fan of the Rugby Sevens.  And Paul lit up!  "Fiji is f*****!  F*** Fiji!  And now a spew of invective against the team for being too young and not training hard and "I fought in Afghanistan!  I fought in Somalia.!'  And then he comes around the bar to sit next to me, his new best friend who certainly can commiserate with him about the state of Fijian rugby.  

Instead, I thought I would divert the convo into a new direction.  Not too radical, still rugby related.  I asked Paul if he could explain a play I'd seen in the Sevens.  He nodded enthusiastically.  So I asked "Why does the player sometimes, after scoring a try, fall down with no one around him near the sideline instead of touching the ball down behind the goalposts?"  

Some background here:  A 'try' in rugby is the equivalent of a touchdown in American football.  After a successful try, the scoring player has the opportunity to kick the ball between the uprights for additional points.  The spot of the ball is the same distance from the sidelines as where the ball touched the ground in the try.  So the idea is to touch the ball down close to the goalposts so the angle for the kick is better.  Makes sense, right?  

"We don't do that!" thunders Paul.  Undeterred, I persisted.  "I saw it several times, Paul.  I'm just wondering why..."  "We don't do that!  What kind of ball you play in US?  Football!  Poofball!  Helmets you wear!  You see any helmets in rugby?  No helmets!  Rugby players men!" 

"Yes, Paul, I agree.  But I saw this several times..."  "We don't do that!  I fought in Afghanistan!   I fought in Somalia!"  He's starting to show me his arm muscles.  Meanwhile  his buddy across the bar motions me to come sit with him.  We talked fishing.  I showed him pictures of lake trout and walleyes.  We talked about cleaning fish.  All very neutral.  I didn't venture into types of filet knives for fear of starting an arms race.  Meanwhile two anglo couples show up and sit next to Paul, diverting his attention.  He immediately calls for a round for the bar.  Everyone is trying to demur.  Paul's buddy and I exchange contact info.  He promises to take me fishing next time I'm in Fiji.  That's me - Mr. Diplomacy.


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