A quick lesson
It was St. Patrick’s Day about five years ago and my friends and I decided it was going to be huge. We started the night at an Irish pub in Edenvale where they were practically handing out Guinness and Kilkenny for next to nothing. We drank, ate and made merry, but not to the point that we were completely broken (I only had about three pints of Guinness in me), because we had other plans.
We made our way to a favourite jol of ours…The Doors, where we proceeded to party the night, and most of the morning, away. By about 11PM I had polished off about three light beers and wasn’t in the mood to drink anymore. I don’t know, there was something inside me that said “enough”. So I stayed on water the rest of the night.
At about 3AM we decided to call it a night and made our way to our cars. I felt absolutely fine but my buddy who was going large was completely lashed. We came in one car (mine) and I was in the best condition to drive, so I got behind the wheel without thinking about it.
We had driven not half a km down the road, when a Metro Cop jumped out in front of my car, raised his hand for me to stop and pulled me over. Sweet baby Hayzoos I crapped myself. Now, despite the fact that I had done most of my drinking a few hours before and that I had drunk nothing but water up until the point of us leaving The Doors, I got instantly worried, as can only be expected. The taste of beer lingered at the back of my throat and my friend who was practically passed out in the passenger seat next to me smelled like the bottom of a wine barrel, which made me worry that I could be found to be over the limit.
The cop came to my window and said: “Evening”. I replied in-kind. “Have you had anything to drink tonight?” he asked. “Yes, a few beers,” I said. “Please step out of your vehicle,” the cop said, as he pulled a breathalyser out of his pocket and led me across the road to where his car was parked with his partner sitting in the passenger seat.
This was also the first time I was pulled over and told to take a breathalyser, so it naturally freaked me out. He was very professional, explained the procedure to me and what my rights were, gave me the little plastic straw and showed me that is was sealed. I was required to open it and insert it in the machine.
“Deep breath, blow out hard until the machine beeps,” the cop said. “If it’s 0.24 or higher we take you straight to jail. Do not pass go,” he said.
I had visions of phoning my fiancé to come and bail me out of jail.
The machine let out a “Beeeeeeep”.
The cop looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
I looked at the cop, my lip quivering.
He showed me the reading on the machine – 0.0. Thank GALACTUS!
“You can go, please drive safe,” the cop smiled, as he walked into the road and pulled over another car filled with a bunch of okes who were a lot worse for wear than me and my buddy.
Of all the nights I decide not to drink, this one would serve as a quick and terrifying lesson that it’s just not worth getting pissed and going behind the wheel. Never mind the implications of putting yours and other peoples’ lives at risk, but to be turned into a criminal in so few minutes…man…I shudder to think what my life would be like if that night had turned out differently.
From that day on, I have never so much as touched my steering wheel if I have had even the vaguest amount too much to drink. There’s just too much at stake.
~ Nic Callegari, Jhb
Well done, and I hope you continue not to drink and drive.
Drink no Drive my motto.