I just want to start this post by saying that if you're going to drink - designate a driver, walk or take public transportation. Don't get behind the wheel of a car. You're not only endangering yourself, but the other drivers on the road as well. You'll also be labeled an asshole by me.
My sister graduated from nursing school this weekend and my family came to visit. My husband, Bry, and I picked up my parents from the airport and were driving them back to our house when we were suddenly cut off by a driver in a white car. This person stopped, completely blocking the lane we were driving in, and if it weren't for Bry's insane, cat-like, miraculous driving, we'd have T-boned the guy, killing him instantly and having 4 cars behind us crash, including my niece's father. However, because my husband is rather amazing, we ended up missing the jerk completely and not hurting anyone (except my whiplash, but whatever).
The jerk backed up his car, turned around so he could drive properly in the lane and pulled his older model white car up about an inch next to Bry's door. The jerk rolls down the window.
"I'm sorry, my friend. I think I've had one too many." He slurs.
"No shit." Bry replies. "You still have a beer in your lap too. Pull over and walk."
I'll never understand how he maintained his composure.
The jerk nods.
"I'm serious. You need to pull over and walk. You're going to kill someone." Bry firmly reiterates.
The drunk drives off, looks like he's going to pull over, and makes a u-turn, driving away from the scene.
Meanwhile, I dialed 9-1-1 to report that he was drunk, still drinking, and driving. The operator transfers me to a different department and the four of us watch from the relative safety of our truck as the drunk drives on by. The operator comes back on, I give her the information on the vehicle.
"He's headed to the freeway. We almost killed him. He's still drinking." I state with panicked urgency. There are lots of kids in this town.
"If we catch him, do you want us to cite him?" She asks.
I look, dumbfounded, out the window.
"I think you should arrest him and throw him in jail! He's drinking and driving and going to kill someone!" I shout, shocked that she'd even be questioning what the police should do to a drunk driver. We end the conversation and Bry takes us home.
About 20 minutes later the pain settles into my neck and shoulders. I call my insurance company to file a claim. They call the next day, giving me the driver's information and I call his insurance to file the claim.
Three phone calls later, I'm blown off by the claims investigator on the other end of the phone.
"We'll investigate the situation further. Thank-you for calling." He says by rote in a monotone voice.
I'm saddened by the state of humanity. Are we that jaded that hearing about someone drinking and driving and almost killing people isn't a big deal?