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• SomeGuy
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Birthday
• 1983-08-05
Gender
•
Male
Location
• Vancouver, BC
Member Since
• 2003-08-02
Occupation
• Writer; Part-Time Hero
Real Name
• James
Personal
Achievements
• Visiting eight different myO friends in person thus far
Anime Fan Since
• Winter 2001
Favorite Anime
• Neon Genesis Evangelion, .hack//SIGN, Naruto, Bleach, Beck, Peacemaker Kurogane, Ranma 1/2 (the guilty pleasure)
Goals
• Visit the myO friends I've missed thus far; complete a cosplay from 300
Hobbies
• Writing, Gaming, Kung Fu, Movies, Acting somewhat strange in general
Talents
• Can recognise most quotes from almost any movie/show on first listen; Can recite the entire 12 days of Christmas by memory
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Saturday, August 27, 2005
How NOT to handle a road check . . .
So I was out downtown with some people. We had some fun, had some drinks, ate some food, hung out at the beach . . . y'know, a good ol' time catching up and stuff.
Driving everyone back home, we come through a counter-attack road check for drunk driving and all that. That's fine, that's okay, it's good they're there. Also, it was a long time ago when I last drank . . . so we're going through, I see the guy waving his cone-flashlight and stuff . . .
. . . "He's saying stop! Stop!" My friend says. I snap to and stop, and roll down my window.
Stupid move number one.
Officer comes in, takes a look. "Where you coming from?" He asks. Of course, we had gone a bunch of places and I hesitate to answer. I look around the car and ask, "where did we go?" Finally, the answer was "just cruisin' around."
Inability to answer quickly. Stupid move number two.
"Any drinks tonight?" he asked. "Yes," I answer truthfully. "How many?" "Two."
"Okay, please pull over into the center of the road . . ." I do so, he comes, tells me to turn off the engine, and come out with my license and car registration. It takes me almost a minute to come out because I can't find which pocket in this little booklet has the registration.
Stupid movie number three.
I come out and walk over to his parked cruiser. I give him my stuff.
"State your full name and address." I do so quickly and smoothly. "Is this your car?" "No, my mom's." His next question, "who is the registration under?" I answer with my mom's name . . . correction, my mom's OLD name. He gives me a funny look and I quickly correct myself with her current last name (married a few years ago, y'know).
Stupid move number four.
So he then goes through procedure, telling me that I have to do a breathalyzer test and all that. "Take a deep breath, and blow as hard as you can into the machine . . ." he says. All the while, I'm confident that it'll be fine, though the fact that I've just screwed up every conceivable other bit so far has sorta got me a little concerned - only fair, right? So yes, blow into the machine . . . . .
Result: "000"
I had zero alcohol in me. Too funny.
"When did you have your last beer?"
"About nine."
"You must've eaten something too, then."
"Yeah . . ."
Oh yeah, it was well past midnight by this point in the night. So yeah, the officer knew I wasn't drunk . . . . . just retarded.
So yeah, I thought this was kind of a funny story. That said . . . if any of you are old enough to drink, be sure to do so responsibly. Pay attention to where you've been, know where the car registration is . . . and by all means, don't forget if your mother has a different last name from yourself!!!
Ahem . . . . . so now that we've shared a moment here, I now want you all to go visit Molly's page and congratulate her on her engagement. It's the right thing to do, yo.
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