Careful of my pint

We were all out on New Year’s Eve in a bar, lounging around on the sofas in a back room. By this point I’d swapped vodka mixers for water, not liking getting drunk. The rest of my group are still drinking, whilst I represent the lightweights of the world. Their glasses are arranged all around the tables we’re colonising when a Central European looking man comes up to one of these coffee tables and sits down. He takes a drink from Steve’s pint, looks up and grins. Steve, stands up very quietly and walks away saying to us as he leaves, “I’m going to get security”. No one messes with his pint. This guy then proceeds to asks us if we’re attached, to which I naturally answer yes. I’m not going to get talking with some dope who’s clearly half drunk already and is about to get thrown out of a club. “We’re all together actually, it’s kind of like a group thing. I hope that’s not odd for you, some people find it odd. It just works”. Sometimes it seems mean just how straight-faced I can say these lies. It’s fun though. Moments later the bouncers close off the area. Bye-bye Mr!