The racist rockabilly at the Irish pub does not want to be your friend. He already has a pudgy girlfriend with poor skin, a Betty Page haircut, and a nose piercing that makes her like a bull. He has a brother. His brother is a bus-driver. That's a job. A thankless fucking job. His best-friend is a tattooist, drums in his band... He has a dog. A pitbull. If he wants to meet people, he goes to a convention. So, please, don't talk to him about Guitar Wolf. Take your Heineken and sit at the other side of the bar.