The Time I Got Served Myself Too Many Drinks at Work

So here's the deal. I've been a bartender for about five years now, and while most nights are pretty standard, there was one night that really sticks out in my mind because it was just... weird. It wasn't the usual rowdy Saturday crowd that comes to grab a drink after work; no, this was a quiet Tuesday night when the bar is usually empty except for regulars like Bob (he's always here around six) and Jane (who starts her shift at eight as a waitress). But on this particular evening, we had a couple of college kids who were in town visiting their older brother, they weren't locals by any means, just passing through, and they seemed genuinely surprised to find our little bar so late into the night. Anyway, these two, let's call them Sam and Alex, were quite chatty from the start. They ordered a round of shots for themselves and then another couple rounds after that. Now, in all fairness, I should have noticed their eyes getting glossy or maybe the fact they were ordering water between each round to counteract the alcohol buildup, but it's easy to get lost in the routine when you've been working long shifts. As I was cleaning glasses behind the bar and chatting with Sam and Alex about tourist spots around town (hey, at least they weren't complaining about boring college life), something inside me clicked. There was a part of my brain screaming that maybe I should be more aware of how much I was serving them but hey, it's not like anyone ever had a problem before. Well, guess what? As the night wore on and Bob and Jane started cleaning up their corners for the evening (Bob usually gets off around midnight), Sam and Alex were still here. And they asked me to serve them one more round of shots because