When I was 16, I was fishing locally with my father and my brothers college football buddy. It was about 7:30 am and I had just casted when I hear that familiar "Can I see your license". My father restates the warden's qusetion as I reach for my wallet. Since I need two hands, I ask the warden to not only hold my rod but the half drained open Pabst Blue Ribbon I had just swigged from. I flipped right past my Va. drivers license and handed him the Va. freshwater permit. My father almost died on the spot. Anyway the warden never said or did anything about the beer. I laugh about it to this day.