After ten tequila shots and three white Russians, I turned and observed the scenery before me. The music is loud, and the room is starting to spin. My alcohol tolerance was low. I didn't want to go out, but Luis dragged me out of the house. He said I needed to get laid. 

I snapped out of my thoughts when a Margarita was slammed before me. The bartender smiled and looked towards the door. 

" It's from the gentleman in the other lounge," he said. I picked it up and took a gulp. It was the ...