My *almost* DUI

Back in 09 I was still humping whatshishead. We'd frequent each other on Friday nights after we were all happy and liquored up. Not always, but we all know my drunk dial...

One Friday I made it out to Happy Hour in Boynton. Most of you who have drank with me, know it doesn't take much.
One - ok
Two - I'm warm
Three - I'm pulling out my cell phone.
Me: " how soon can you be in your bed?"

I lived 20 minutes away. So I hopped on I-95. I pull off the exit and receive a text.
NM: "Trouble getting my buddy out the bar. Stall. Text you when I'm close"

Lucky for me there was a bar near his house that I loved. The Dubliner. Don't ask. I have a thing for irish pubs.
I sit down. Have a fourth vodka soda in the middle of a group of Cubans. They bought my drink. I drank only a few sips and got the text message I was waiting on. "Sorry Guys. My fathers only wish is that I never marry a Cuban. GottaGO."

There was a parking garage attached to the bar. Well lit and very safe. I climb in my car and exit. La La La. Making my way amidst the traffic I catch the red and blue. My heart sank. Hard. And suddenly - peace. Well, it's obvious I'll never get past this so I might as well accept it.

I grab my license and roll down the window. I'm ready to go to prison.

Officer1: "Ma'am. Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Me: "Officer I have Nooooo idea."
Officer1: [bends down closer] "your lights are off"
--- Inside I am screaming YOU IDIOT, VALENCIA!
Me: [checks switch. turns switch to ON]: "Well. It looks like they are working just fine, officer"
Officer1: [blinks] "uh. you smell like you've been drinking tonight."
Me: "Well yes in fact I was. I just pulled out the parking garage at the Dubliner which is why I didn't notice my lights weren't on. I had ONE vodka/soda there."
Officer1: "I'm going to need you to step out the car"

I've learned that it's important just to follow directions. After dating a cop I realized it's really not worth the effort to tell them where to stick it. Again, I also was well aware I wasn't getting away with it this time. I got out of the car with my hands folded behind my back in advance. And I notice a second cop walk up... fuck. A double team frisk.

Officer1: "Officer 2 here is going to give you a standard sobriety test. Please follow his directions"
--- I'm already trying to remember what the first letter of the alphabet is..
Officer2: "Please follow the pen with your eyes."
--- If you've ever done the pen test or know how it works, you know you can't fake it. My eyes were WATERING I was trying to focus so bad. Clearly an epic fail. After he scolded me twice for moving my head while floating my eyeballs around randomly he said:
Officer2: "I'm going to go ahead and say you are twice the legal limit"
Me: "WHAT?! Nuh-uh."
--- Somewhere amongst the questioning I had mentioned I was going to my friends house. While Officer 1 and 2 discussed the situation and rubbed their distended bellies I heard:
O1: "Well, what do you think we should do?"
O2: "Well. She's got no record. And it's close to midnight"
-- (shift change. important to make a mental note of)
O1: "Well if your friend can come get you and you guys can get rid of this car, we'll let you off this time."
Me: "Uh that idiot *better* come get me!"
--- I call whatshishead and tell him that if he doesn't pick me up I'm going to jail. He starts scolding away. He agrees to pick my pathetic ass up and chimes in that I owe him. Yeah Yeah Yeah. It was all of 2 miles from his front door.

While I stand there, I have a conversation with Officer 1. I'm a bit mopey at this point. I explain I used to date a cop and I knew better. Ugh, sure V. And he told me
O1: "Well most people have no idea how alcohol affects them. If you *want* I will let you blow the breathilizer and you can see for yourself?"
--- trick? sexual innuendo?
So I blew. I don't know the final number because it went flying through so many that he yanked it out of my hands before it stopped - maybe a sudden call to his conscience. I tapped my feet. Whistled a bit. A few minutes of silence pass. It's raining. I called NM and he was on his way.
O1: "So what do you do?
Me: "I uh.. well.. I am an admin for an IT company"
O1: "Where do you work - In Boca?"
Me: "Mm hmm"
O1: "Do you have a business card?"
Me: "uh. they don't give business cards to admins"
--- I shoot a look over to Officer 2 who throws both hands in the air as to plead the fifth.
O2: "Well, here's my business card. If you ever need anything..."

--- Now, I'm the most fair person I know. I NEVER would try and get off a ticket that I deserved. And after he said that I was instantly aggravated. I should have been relieved, and of course afterwards I was, but I just felt... violated? I could already hear what my guy friends were going to say...

I took the business card and shortly thereafter NM pulled up. I felt like a 5 year old. I opened the truck door and he just looked at me. Shook his head. And before I even took one step up he said:
NM: "Tell me the truth. Did you blow him?!"
Me: "Are you fucking kidding me?!
NM: "Well all the trouble you just got out of, you probably should. Go. I'll wait."

--- I grumbled and got in the car. He ranted the whole way home about how expensive DUI's are and how lucky I am and how if it were him he'd definitely would have gotten the ticket...

And at along last, we hopped into bed, ready to do fi.na.lly get naked.

NM: "Uh. I don't have a condom"
Me: "Wait.A.Minute. You mean to tell me that I drove 20 minutes, drunk, almost got a DUI, got hit on by a cop, all to get over here and now I can't even do WHAT I CAME HERE TO DO!?"
NM: [smiles] you do owe me...

A second breathalizer test later, still drunk. But not in jail :)

Bacon...And Go

By 8th grade I had successfuly avoided most responsibilities children experience in their formative years. The only time I spent doing those boring things called chores was when I lived with my AR. Cooking was never one of these.

Most of you know my father spent 8 years in prison (GoDad!) And I highly anticipated getting to know the man I had lost my relationship with at 4. I was now 13.

Dad: "Valencia!! Will you make your father breakfast?"
Me: "Uh. Cheerios or Frosted Mini Wheats"
Dad: "Cute. I'll take a cheese omlete, bacon, and some toast"
Me: [blink]
This would be the first lesson my father inspired after returning home..

I called my grandmother.
What pan do I use?
How long?
How many eggs?
How much cheese!
How do I form it just so?!

The egg turned out to be the easy part. Even now, Omletes are my specialty. But it was the bacon that did it.

I threw it on the pan. In a pool of butter. Too much? Whatever. He's skinny from prison food.

OUCH! That motherfucker just bit me!
Dad: "Shimmy! Quit swearing, God Dammit! I don't like it!"

I had a process of tossing the bacon from 2 feet away so that I wouldn't get any stinging grease skeets. And my attempts at trying to turn it over reminded me of fencing. I'd find the longest utensil and poke at it. quickly. Fighting the grease monsters. I'm pretty sure I made the appropriate noses to go along with such nonsense.

An hour later, after much fighting, greasing, swearing, and (oh yes) burning.. voila.

Dad: "Valencia. It's cold"

Me: "Try the dollar menu"