We were talking about Spain when he fell on his back and smacked his head against the concrete.

I was talking to a cute Canadian girl about Government-sponsored television the second time he started puking.

We were in a cab on Stanyan and Fulton for the third iteration. I told the driver to pull over, paid him, and we scurried off before he noticed the backseat of his cab was covered in puke.

There might be some entertaining anecdotes here, but I would've rather stayed at the party than babysit a friend who can't handle his buzz.