You swung your fist at his head, a wide blow as your vision crossed to see doubles. He stepped back and let you topple out of your barstool seat as you began slurring your words "C-c'mon, pretty boy. Fight me." You stammered, you'd started an argument about something small and now your alcohol fueled brain had conviced you that you could win a fight. He'd stayed sober for exactly this and instead took another step back, grabbed your arm and twisted hard while stomping on one of your feet