How not to make the sale

I was at queer bowling tonight, you know, like I do on Monday nights. The spring Rainbow League wraps up next week, and summer Rainbow League will start in early May, so that's fun.

And Pete the bartender*, who I've known for literally well over a year, who knows many of my friends and has served me drinks and gives me a hard time when I just drink water and used to work with my friend who I used to visit at work all the time, came up to our team and said, "If you think you're going to do summer league, could you sign up through me? The  employees are having a contest."

And I thought I'd joke around with him a little, so I said, "What do you have to offer us that [other employee] and [other other employee] don't?"

And he said, "Actually, [other employee] said you were a bitch. And I stood up for you. I said, 'no, she isn't.'"

And I laughed, because it's funny, and then I said, "Hey, Pete, what's my name?"

"I know your name," he said.

"Mhm. What is it?"

And there was silence, and then I realized he was actually reading our team list, which was on the table in front of me — and still did not know my name.

No foolin'.

Also, I think I will sign up for summer league with any other employee of this bowling alley.

*I usually don't use names here. I think we can all agree that he deserves it.