It's always good to see the younger lads in their element, myself included, while the older guys do the experienced thing, standing at the bar and nodding their head to the occasional Bruce Springsteen song while reminiscing about the 1980s when electro-pop and shellsuits were all the rage, apparently.
But it likely occurred around 1998 in upstate New York at a dive bar with sticky floors and the Rolling Stones, maybe Bruce Springsteen, blasting from jukebox.