The bartender looks around, wondering if it was you that had asked for the champagne. You nod your head, and incredulously, she fiddles with a key to unlock a safe/refrigerator. "You have to buy it buy the bottle, the stuff doesn't last forever with the cork popped, an it's damn expensive. I've got a '90 for $120, and a '92 for $125. What''l it be?"
You wince, "If I'm going to spend $120, I might as well spend $125. Give me the '90."
The bartender ducks under the counter and comes up with a fancy green bottle. Wallet in hand you juggle the wine and barely manage to pull out a wad of cash. You hand the bartender some money, and say rather loudly, "Keep the Change." You then Proceed to saunter off like you own the place.
As you walk towards the redhead, you make eye contact, shove you waller into your back pocket, and wink your left eye, all at the same time. As you close your eye, a rather rambunctious couple dances on your left. During the split second that you have no left-hand perifial vision, the dancers execute a wild spin, the end of which consisted of the man picking up his dance partner and swinging her around a few times. On her second spin, the lady whollops you in the back, sending you flying to the floor. Already drunk, and with your other hand in your back pocket, you are forced to use the Don Perignon to brace yourself as you crash onto the floor into a bubbly, bloody, pittiful heap.