It’s just nearing that point in the night where you could go home. You’re tired, you’re a bit tipsy, and the bar you’re at has worryingly sticky floors.
You could order an Uber. Or you could order a round a tequila shots, down them, and scream ‘WOO!’ to cover up your desperate urge to throw up.
You will do this. You will dance. You will do more tequila shots.
And the next morning, you will seriously regret every decision you’ve ever made.