It was apparent that she was too drunk. Everyone at the table knew, except maybe her. She had said some wonderfully crude things. Bizarre insinuations and reckless accusations that may have been assumed but never spoken. And yet here she was asking for another glass. Almost as if she viewed the open bar as a challenge. All had forgotten her name at this point, even Josh, who had invited her along in jest over Tinder some eight hours prior. His embarrassment had long given way to exhaustion, and it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say he had spent the past four hours aging at a presidential rate.