You crashed the party. Literally.

We had been arguing, so I didn't expect you to show up to the party. Especially since you dated the host's cousin and it didn't end well. But there you were, all smiles and bouncing off the walls. I found out later that you had sucked down two bottles of wine and a half dozen cocktails "with dinner" before you showed up. Nonetheless, you were the life of the party, chugging beers and stealing a camera to take a billion pictures of people you didn't know. I thought it was a little odd when you took the host's other cousin outside for a smoke and a quick makeout session, call me a stick-in-the-mud if you will. When you came back in with your arm around her, I just looked at you, puzzled, and asked if you were testing me. I found it even more perplexing when you tried to kiss my other friend, he didn't appreciate that very much and nearly decked you. Eventually you charmed so many people at the party that they asked you to leave. You were sweet to ask if I was coming with you, but I politely declined.

It is not I who you are testing, sir. It is your liver.