Twist my arm for St. Patty's day

In college we often played a game called True Colors. Here is the description off boardgames.com (picture from the same site):
Always surprising, hilarious, and often revealing, True Colors asks of all players who best fits the following descriptions:
It was the party to beat all parties. Who was the last to leave?
Who would lose a winning lottery ticket?
The world is coming to an end. Who is the last to realize this?
Each player secretly places their votes for the players who best fit the decriptions. Next, you guess whether you received some, none, or all of those votes. Guess right and you'll score.
Think you know your friends? Think they know you?

During one particularly memorable round we drew the question mentioned in the description: "It was the party to beat all parties. Who was the last to leave?" Now, just so you know, I am the kind of person who just gets really tired after having one to many drinks and tends to curl up on a random couch and nap until everyone else is ready to go (even if that couch is outside on the porch...). In fact, the only time I've ever gotten kicked out of a bar it was because I kept putting my head down on the table and they said I couldn't sleep on their patio. Whatever, it isn't like I was hurting anyone...

Anyway, I didn't even vote for myself when that question came up but one person in the group DID vote for me and stepped up to defend their vote. "You know, when Caley puts her party boots on she is in it for the long haul." Everyone thought for a bit and finally had to acknowledge that when I convince myself to really get into the party and go all out I am unstoppable. But since that only happens on rare occasions...

Saturday the plan was to swing by a friend's party, eat dinner at the rents and call it a night. What I didn't anticipate was running into some of those old True Colors playing friends from college who knew exactly how to twist my arm into going out with them for the night.
"Put those party boots on, Caley! It's gonna be a long one!"
Ok fine, twist my arm! I ended up going on a (pre) St. Patrick's day pub crawl downtown St. Paul that was all fun and games until someone at the Shamrock Bar poured an entire beer down the front of my green cardigan (unintentional but still unacceptable.) I got more than a little upset and called little brother to come rescue me from the melee. When all was said and done I was at home, in bed and asleep by 11pm with my party boots trailed one after another on the living room where I had yanked them off in a huff.
Oh well, at least I tried...