I’d surmise that most post-bro phase adults have been there: You’re hitting up your favorite/trendy watering hole with a gaggle of your bestest homies. As typically required by the establishment’s powers-that-be, one of you has plunked down that all too convenient enabler of binge-drinking and mayhem, a credit card, in order to keep your groups bar tab “open.” It’s a very common occurrence, no? Indeed. Come the end of the evening’s grand imbibery, what happens when there’s a discrepancy?
SHTF happens… that’s what.