This acquaintance that used to come into one of the skate-shops that I worked at, was unrecognizably inebriated one night at this club--we'll call him John...John Farkwarsin.
John was staggeringly fucked-up before he even walked in the club that night, and every time I'd see him throughout the evening he would have a new drink in his hand.
Aside from stinking like a motherfucker, and wanting to hug and bro the fuck down with any of us that he knew, and the dudes he was with, John tried to start at least--literally--like a dozen fights that night...
...but, his boys, and those of us that knew him managed to keep him from being beaten--often, nearly at our own expense.
Towards the end of the night, I realized I hadn't seen him in a good hour or so. So when I go in to the bathroom to take a leak close to closing time, I find John in the mens room...
...the dudes he came with were nowhere to be seen, and had obviously left him, and John was passed out cold, sitting on toilet, in a stall with no door on it, with no shirt on, and his pants and underwear around his ankles.
Dude had thrown up all over himself, and shit his pants, and shit all over the stall.
Next to him on the floor, was his wallet.
I looked in it, and there was a fifty dollar bill.
I took it.