This photograph captures the exact moment I have had one too many drinks and begin telling a story.

Annie takes the chicken shit way out and starts drinking, hoping she can catch up to the point that she will find said story funny.

Doug, meanwhile, realizing that I can no longer make out shapes (and, therefore, facial expressions), makes no attempt to hide the fact that my anecdote is either (A) blatant fabrication, (B) highly offensive to any number of nearby ethnicities, or (most likely...C) both.

Jen pretends she is paying attention but has, in fact, shut down her body's internal processes and is in a catatonic state usually attained only by samurai forced to fake their own deaths.

BONUS: If you look closely, you'll notice a nearby Good Samaritan who, having noticed that I was starting to tell a story, is handing a tasty Sparks to all those unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.