Last night saw me have a couple of interesting encounters. The first you won't get to hear the story of, but the second is at least worthy of a post, though I can't truthfully say it shows me in the best light.
I suppose this morning is a more apt description of the timing as I'd been out fairly late. I had had a bit to drink in the night part and ended up at someone's house. This is a someone I know, so be happy knowing that it wasn't an anonymous hookup.
"Mr. Hull, I pulled you over for speeding, and the light that illuminates your license plate is out. Also your tags are expired. Can I see your license and registration?"
"uh . . ." makes digging for wallet sound as I dig for wallet. "Here's my license. My registration is at home because my window won't roll up, so I took everything out of my car."
"Have you been drinking tonight?"
"Well you smell like a . . ." I forget what I smelled like, but all I actually smelled was ass and lube, and I wondered if he could smell it and wondered if he too recognized it as the smell of gay sex, but I digress.
He went back to his car for a minute while I tried not to be blinded by the lights. He returned and first asked me why I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. I pointed out that I had been when he pulled me over, and I didn't point out that he watched me take it off to get my wallet out of my back pocket.
I watched his finger go back and forth, trying to move my eyes, feeling as if my head were turning though I tried to keep it still. I was sort of fixated on a nearly healed cut on his finger. He tried to trick me after what seemed like ten minutes worth of over extending my eye muscles by suddenly going up, but I was game for his attempt. Next I did the ten steps of heel to toe walk, turned in a small space at the end, and walked back ten more heel to toe steps. My favorite was the lifting my foot six inches off the ground and counting, one-one thousand, two-one thousand, etc. I actually made it to about fifteen before my balance required I put my foot down, and I actually said something along the lines of, "Fourteen-one thousand, fifteen-one thousand, and eventually I have to put my foot down." I may have laughed a little on the inside where the officer couldn't see.
I sat for a minute waiting, and he finally came back again and explained my charges, one of which was no insurance. I didn't point out that he'd asked for registration and not insurance, but I did show him my insurance card, and he was nice enough to scribble that charge out.
So went my second field sobriety test. The first time was a few years back, and I did it with two pulled hamstrings, injuries incurred earlier that same day while playing soccer. I passed then too.
I can't claim this as the greatest story, but it is a story, and now I have better things to do. But do take a warning. Don't drink and drive, and not just because you might spill your drink.
If you want to hear a band called The Business sing about drinking and driving go HERE. It's actually a fun song.