Or even knit near drinking. My friend Kelley and I had precisely one beer each Saturday afternoon, and yet...
I somehow got the hem edge of my Callisto shawl looped onto the needle, as if it was a working stitch. In the middle of a 300+ stitch row. Easily rectified with some cursing of triangular shawl construction and slipping 150 stitches to get back to the bone-headed mistake. But still.
And, almost simultaneously, Kelley did this to her heel flap...providing an excellent opportunity to teach her how to reverse a purl stitch to a knit stitch, sans crochet hook. Also, a pleasant opportunity to point at each other's crap knitting and laugh.
Truly, not our finest knitting day.
I've been one of the knitters lobbying to relocate our weekly SNB to a bar, but I may have to seriously rethink that stance.
After all, I'm entirely capable of screwing up my knitting stone sober under good lighting. So why risk it?