I had a friend in university who used to hold us hostage. She had the car, so when we went out we had to stay out till she brought us back to res.

We would wind down at one place and, instead of driving us back, she'd insist we try another. Bar, club, whatever. Rinse and repeat. All the while playing a fucking LOVE SONGS mix tape (Google that, children) as we drove.

Thanks to her, I have zero tolerance for people who just won't admit that the party's over.

It's done.

You're finished.

Go the fuck home.

Especially if you're 45 years old.

I'm jus' sayin'.