Return of the freak magnet

I went to Bogart's last night to see Steve's band. I hadn't even walked in the door yet, and I managed to find the weirdest guy in the place, of course. Here's how the conversation went:

Dude: Sally!!
Me: Uh... no... my name is Dana.
Dude: But your middle name is Sally...
Me: No... it's not.
Dude: I'm your uncle... Jerry...
Me: I don't have an uncle Jerry.
Dude: Oh. Well. (hangs head and mumbles) I was tryin' to hit on you. Can I at least get a 'thank you'?
Me: Um.... thank you.
Dude: You *are* very pretty. I wish I had a niece like you.
Me: (thinking) (Yeah, I know we're in KY, but we don't condone incest.) Thanks.

Then there was another guy who kept walking past me. He was wearing a ringer shirt with nothing on it, and I swear, all he was missing was the red hair and "Vote for Pedro" on his shirt, and he could have passed for Napoleon Dynamite. I guess he thought I was uncomfortable, because he pulled a chair up beside me and mumbled something. I was already ready to leave, but I took that as my cue to leave before he asked me about my tots. So, the freak magnet lives on...