Personal Time with the Philadelphia Sidewalks

So I got hammered last night. I also realized that I don't have the stamina I once had, which is unfortunate because I'm only 22. I think your body is prime for intoxicating yourself when you're still growing or something. Whatever. I'm not going to be the cliche white person who counts every drink he had and reads it to you like an itemized list...so lets just say after a number of drinks (a really fuckin high number...had to say it)...I took the catalyst shot. The shot that stirs up everything bad in your body and gives you that sour taste in your mouth. I was about to throw up. Never one to be rude, I politely excused myself from the bar and walked outside onto the streets of Philadelphia. There was a middleaged man on his cell phone right outside the door. I nodded to him, turned to my right, and let loose a good 12 drinks onto the pavement. This was followed by a couple afterburner barrages of fluid for good measure. Then, as my vision began to restore itself, I noticed there was some vomit on a big set of boots. My lack of eyesight and judgment at the time led me to ignore that a homeless person was sleeping against the wall of the building where I was vomitting. And now I had vomitted on their pair of boots. They didn't wake up, thankfully. But how much of an asshole am I? Oh that's great, you're homeless...let me throw up on your only pair of shoes to make tomorrow even better when you wake up? I think I might go back and buy this guy some shoes, or maybe a tarp in case something like this happens again. Oh yeah, I also went back into the bar after my 1 on 1 with the sidewalk and pretended like nothing happened. However, a full framed window shot of my vomitting session was more than entertaining for my comrades. Sweet.