Technically, we wasn't supposed to drink. Not in America, at least. But honestly, what would it do to him? Give him a nasty hangover in the morning? Nothing more, and Tylenol would help that. Maybe he'd have a few regrets, but nothing more.
But he was a nation, rules and laws didn't apply to him. A flash of a badge and he'd be in the clear. Liver damage? The only way that'd get damaged was if there was a lot of oil rigging and digging in the Midwest. Brain wasn't fully developed? You go through centuries of war, epidemics, financial crisis and we'll see how "underdeveloped" your brain is.
It's not like he liked breaking the law, it was just that some things were more important than being a law-abiding citizen. Such as, being rejected for the third time this week for plans to hang out. Just hang out, that's all. Watch a movie or two. Something simple.
He had gone through his cell phone's contact list once per night for plans. Nothing, everyone was busy, busy, busy. He had accepted in for the first two nights, but when even France was busy that third night, it stung.
So, here he sat, in a bar, in a small town, in Massachusetts, surrounded by drunken fools, drowning his sorrows in cheap beer.
Technically, he wasn't supposed to drink...