Opa!

There are generally two types of drunkards in the world: Those that get 86’d a lot and those who never do. If you’re the latter, you’re missing out on a very special feeling. A man with any character at all must have enemies and places he is not welcome—in the end we are not only defined by our friends, but also those aligned against us. So choose the type of bar you loathe. Get remorselessly smashed on tequila. Let your lizard brain do your talking. Splash the kerosene, drop the match and watch the bridge burn. Few sentences in the English language bespeak a mysterious dark side than: “I’m not allowed in there. And, quite frankly, I don’t blame them.”

- #9 on Modern Drunkard Magazine's list of 40 Things Every Drunkard Should Do Before He Dies

Oh, shit. I've actually done a couple of these, including #10, Extravagantly Overtip a Bartender. I once gave a fifty-dollar tip on a one hundred dollar tab. The bartender grabbed my shoulder when she saw the amount and said, "Are you sure you want to do this?" I remember mumbling something completely sappy and incoherent in response. To her credit, she never held this against me. I also did #21, Hit a Dozen Bars in One Night, but that was a special occasion.