A series of unfortunate events.

So, it came to pass that New Chick Oops! had a little altercation with a pond a couple of nights ago while driving her vehicle.

She had went to a party and had a couple of drinks. A "couple" meaning "two"--not a "couple" meaning "Um...I lost count." I believe it was some kind of cocktail, but anyway....

She's about 5'1" and average weight (whatever that is). I, being of similar frame, can speak from experience that after two servings of hard alcohol, I feel fine. I'm walking around, talking to people, and holding all my fluids in just fine. I can get down a flight of stairs without taking a dive. I can remember my phone number and tell people witty anecdotes about my childhood. I can even remember how many times I've peed since "breaking the seal." Most of the time I can even drive home with no problems, other than my eyes getting glazed over and contact lenses threatening to fall out.

Well, New Chick Oops! lives in close enough proximity to the sticks that there's a strong probability that if she gets lost, something bizarre will happen.

To make a long story short, at around 4 a.m. on Sunday morning, the rain was creating poor visibility on the roads. Oops! turned down a gravel road to do a three-point road turn and ended up backing her Escape into a pond. I can see how even a 100% sober person could do this. The county I came from is notorious for having deep ditches with no guard rails. People would go around curves too fast and go sideways right into the holes.

She went to knock on the door of the farmhouse across the street thinking that maybe, if there was a God, they had a tractor with a hook to pull her out (it was just her back tires stuck in a little mud).

Nope. They just dialed 911 and the fire brigade, with all of its bells and whistles, went out. Along with them, some Barney Fife state trooper trailed along and queried, "So, have you had anything to drink?"

Of course she had, and she didn't lie. Basically, she passed the field sobriety test, but blew a .12 on the breathylizer, therefore and hence and hereby: DUI. If she had never backed into the pond, she'd never have gotten pulled.

So, I'll be carpooling for a while since I live closest.

Hat Guy finds this all quite amusing as he, admittedly some sort of Phish head in the past, once got taken in for DUI. He sat around the police station for at least an hour before he took the breathylizer and still blew a .14.

Scary. I'll admit that there have been a few 1 a.m.'s where I've had as much beer as not-beer when I've navigated home just fine, other than crawling along at 30 miles per hour. It could have been me pulled for DUI just as easily as her. In fact, I was pulled over one night under suspicion of drunk driving because I was swerving--I was sober, mind you. There was fog as thick as cotton balls at there was this car following me. Every time I changed lanes, they would. It was fucking freaking me out--I thought that as soon as I reached a stop light some psycho would jump out and try to stab me. It turned out to be some jackass police officer trying to make his quota. I told him straight out: "I'm swerving because it's foggy and YOU'RE ON MY ASS!"

"Okay. Drive safe."

Ass. There's just no way to tell if someone is impaired while driving. Sure, there are the obvious signs of people swerving too hard and too fast and too often and following too close, but how do you put a reasonable limit on impairment? When is it okay to make someone prove their sobriety? Only when they're pulled over under suspicion, or is it okay to piggyback on a incident of distress?

Posted by Tiffany at January 31, 2005 07:05 PM