That's some funny stuff right there.  
One time (not in Band Camp) our shift stopped at a Huddle House together after working a pretty nasty wreck on the Interstate.  I brought us all in to grab a cup of coffee and decompress a bit.  As luck would have it, it's about 2:30 am, so the Double H is about half full of folks from the local watering holes, and some of them are obviously intoxicated.  We're trying not to notice, or stare, but we can't help but notice the guy at a table of four who has slowly "bobbed" his way down until his nose hits his grits.  He's trying to be cool about it, but he's as obvious as a wart on the Pope's nose.  So we get up to leave, and all I say to them is "He's not driving is he?"  "No, Sir."  "Good, y'all be safe going home."
No, we didn't go sit across the street.  I told my team to put five miles between them and the parking lot as quick as they could.