Reminds me of my 21st, back when the downtown Lincoln bars all did birthday shots. Last bar of the night was the Brass Rail. I was the last of my friends to turn 21, so they weren't kind to me through the night. We're sitting at the bar and I just put my forehead on the bar and threw up between my legs and all over the floor. The bartender, knowing the classy establishment that the Rail was at that time simply said to my friends, "If he's going to do that again, you guys are going to have to leave".