Fitting in with the boys

I've been playing hockey the last month or so with a group of city employees. It's pretty much free ice and they're a good bunch of guys. They all work together and know each other so I'm by far the new guy.

I tend to mind my own business. I smile at the odd joke that's not completely an inside one. Today I actually tried to join in. It seemed like a good thing to say right before I said it. Here's how it played out in a playlet:

Curtain raises. A wooden bench runs along a brick wall which lines the back of the stage. It's painted a glossy blue, smeared with black marks and sparse graffitti. A sign warning against alcohol consumption identifies it as a hockey dressing room.

Six guys of varying age, most in their thirties, are partially dressed in hockey equipment. The typical locker room, boys will be boys, banter comes and goes. One character, Brydon, stays to himself and doesn't appear to know the others as well or be a part of their inside jokes.

Steve: "You're playing net today Rick?"

Rick: "Yep, it's my fourth or fifth time."

Steve: "I'll try not to get the puck up too often. I may get you in the crotch a few times though."

Rick: "Ya right. Don't bother, my wife'll kill you."

Brydon: "Ya, her and every other stripper in town."

A door on the right side of the stage slams open, a man enters wearing a solid white one piece spandex outfit. The words "SILENCE" are printed boldly in red ink across the front and back of his suit.

SILENCE (yelling and holding his hands up to the other actors): "Ok, that's it. No more, shut it down boys. Not another word."

SILENCE continues to hold his hands up. He bops, twitches, and jerks around for about a minute exuding a lack of comfort while the others remain quiet. He then exits the room.

Steve: "So should I go white or dark?"