When I turned 30 I wasn't like most others who had an early mid-life crisis. I embraced it. I wanted to have a good time, so I threw a big party in my own honor. I rented out a clubhouse in the neighborhood I lived in, got a couple kegs, had a band, and enough Jell-O shots for the whole neighborhood.
One of the girls who showed up was a girl I dated for about 3 weeks and worked with a few months earlier. My brother had the hots for her, but it was my birthday so I wasn't about to give her up that easily. Pretty much everyone at the party was ripped, and the girl asked to talk to me in private at one point. The clubhouse was just one big room, so there really weren't any private areas. We ended up sneaking off into one of the closets where they kept the brooms and mops. We talked for a bit and then some old feelings came out in us (thanks to the alcohol of course) and she started going down on me. After a few minutes we could hear people looking for us and walking right past the door several times. At one point they even tried to open it but I had locked it from the inside.
We eventually made a graceful exit from the closet and nobody even noticed we had been in there. I didn't tell anyone what had happened until the next day, so clearly my brother had no clue. A while later my brother was hitting on this girl and ended up kissing her. Poor guy...if he had only known where her mouth had been before that.