I drank a bar.
Beer in Vietnam can cost as little as 15 cents. Put that deal in front of a group of determined young men who have accepted the Dad Bod way of life, and you have the ability to literally finish every last drop the bar has in stock.
I drank the day before going to lunch with a friend.
There’s always an off chance that “casual lunch” he invited you to is actually the anniversary of his grandmother’s death, and you’re suddenly meeting every one of his aunts and uncles. They’re all wearing suits, you look like shit, and next thing you know, you’re trying to suck down a dish of boiled pig’s brains without vomiting all over the table.