Crappy time at the Jose Marti

So this afternoon I was dragged to the Cuban social club Jose Marti in Hawthorne by my wife to attend the birthday party of one 'Danilo', a guy I don't even know all that well.

I was there for less than an hour, when I got the perfect excuse to leave:  A guy I have known for years and years decided to walk up to me and make some rude, uncalled for comment about my weight.  I muttered something unintelligible in response and waited a few minutes before calling my son and asking him to come and get me.

A few minutes later, I got up, told my wife I would see her at home later and got the fuck out of that place.  I should know better than to attend these functions, but it seems like like I just don't seem to learn that lesson once and for all.

*Sigh*.