I guess the only place to relax is in a crowded bar. Greta idea.
Yeah. You sit there at the bar, so drunk you can’t even focus on the pizza menu to decide if you want one or not.
You innocently look at some chick, wondering how it is that she can wear pants that tight and still be able to play darts. As you sit there with your mouth hanging open, brain working somewhat slowly due to ethanol poisoning, and wipe a little drool off your lower lip, her boyfriend gets all up in your face because you’ve been looking at his woman just a little too long.
What he doesn’t understand is that it took you that long just to comprehend that her dart-throwing form is all wrong. She’s leading with the wrong foot, and you were just thinking of offering some advice.
Enjoy in moderation. A free country is a good country.