You scramble to your feet as quickly as possible. "Maybe no one saw that," you think to yourself again. No such luck, you realize as people have stopped dancing to look at your pitiful state, some of the women with their hands over their shocked mouths. There's a slight throbbing in your forehead; when you bring your hand away, there's blood covering the tips of your fingers. "Bloody hell", you moan. As you look down at yourself, you can see that your dress shirt is definitely going to need to be dry cleaned as it is in the process of soaking up most of the $125.00 you just spent.
Luckily, (or so you seem to think) the bottom of the bottle stayed intact with a few millimeters of champagne left in the bottom. Naturally, (or as naturally as can be expected from a person who's drunk, soaked and bleeding from the head) you saunter up to the red headed woman once more.
"Drink?" You manage a queasy smile, while holding the broken bottle. Fairly disgusted, she scoffs and walks off, leaving you feeling far worse than you imagined. To make matters worse, your highschool sweetheart, in all her lovliness, is watching you from across the room. "Wonderful," you think.
With no money for a cab (you having spent it all on that damn champagne), you wander outside and plunk yourself down onto the curb.