It's 1 A.M.
You're in a bar full of drunks, several of whom are helping you sing along with the band, into your cell phone, at the top of their lungs.
You are singing to someone who, 5 minutes ago, was blissfully dreaming of a lovely, quiet, isolated paradise, probably including a beach, blue water, and nubile, willing beauties of the sex of their choice.
And yet, this is going to turn out to be the single most important phone call you are going to make tonight.
Because an hour from now you are going to be calling this same person, looking for bail money.