New Year’s tale: I’m not as trunk as you dhink I am

Here’s a New Year’s Eve cautionary tale.

New Year’s Eve is right around the corner and, if you are stupid enough to drink and drive, Smokey Bear is waiting for you. Look, I like to get hammered and party too, but I make arrangements when I’m going to booze it up and/or I have a driver on stand-by, especially on New Year’s Eve. If you know you’re going to a friend’s place and you’ll be imbibing like Dionysus – don’t be an ass.

With that said, I have a true story New Year’s Eve about assisting a stupid drunkard who tried to drive smashed, many moons past. 
I was in college and it was a chilly, New Year’s weekend in Southern California. My roommate went to a party and, being that he had a motorcycle, promised he would stay sober to ride back on his own. It’s hard to find someone who can ride at the last moment… especially a sober rider at a party in SoCal. This was an issue as I had to go to work the next morning and I was trying to be responsible.
The phone call after midnight and after New Year’s Eve, pissed me off as it was my idiot roommate’s buddies telling me he’s  too s-itfaced to ride.  Apparently, he had tried to ride and (thank god) never made it to his electric starter. What a fool.
It was too far to walk and I didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of my car remaining at a house filled with drunken idiots all alone. This was based on my fear that someone would molest my Camaro the same way I molested other vehicles in the past… at this same house. No, I was stuck taking public transport (a big no-no in SoCal) to the party house.
The nearly new Honda Shadow VT600C sat prominently displayed at the front of the house flanked by a gaggle of smokers. Knowing my roommate lay somewhere inside, (most likely) half naked and loaded, I lit up a stogie, put on my angry face and marched in.
This is how the conversation went:
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:AY-Thin‘! you made it!”
Me:”Put your cloths on. Let’s go.”
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”No! no, no, no, no! It’s not New Year’s yet!” 

Me:“It was two hours ago. It’s 2 a.m. dumb-ass. Let’s go.” 
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:“HAPPY NEW YEAR’S!”
Me:“Can we please go?”
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”Pooper partyI mean...”
A half an hour later, we were saddling up the Honda Shadow. I knew that cigar smoke bothered him, it made him a bit queasy, as did my riding skills, so I puffed perfidiously.  I pulled on the leather riding jacket and didn’t bother helping my roommate with the remainder of his cloths. Shorts were good enough.
This was going to be a New Year’s Eve he was going to remember.
Now, I’ve never been particularly good with motorcycle’s clutches. I’m a simpleton who sometimes confuses the hand brake for the clutch. Bummer.
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”Dude, chill! You’re going to stall again!” 
This happened at nearly every light. I also zoomed along lightly snaking left and right. Each time I had to accelerate, I would launch hard – each time I stopped, I would stop hard. I could hear his words gurgle and pause as waves of nausea attacked his innards.
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”Please stop for a minute.”
I responded by taking a long tug on my cigar.
Me:“Sorry pal, gotta be at work in four friggin’ hours.”

About a mile away from our house, it happened. I didn’t hear it so much as feel the contents of his stomach slash against my back.
HURRRLLLL!,” “Blahcchh!”
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”Oh god!”
I had deliberately tucked the bottom of the thick leather jacket under my tush before we set off. All of the puke slid against his naked chest and down his shorts. He was riding “commando” so only his denim between warm spew and his reproductive organs.
I didn’t slow, I didn’t stop, I didn’t care. The cigar smoke covered most of the sick trickling down my back.
By the time we got home, he was covered. His bike was covered too. I – was not… except for the riding jacket’s back.
Stinkin’-drunk roommate:”Dude, I am so sorry.”
I handed him the jacket.
Me:“I’m not; this was your jacket. Happy New Year’s dumb-ass.”
Sadly, a few year later, this same (now former) roommate got pinched for DUI which will permanently plague him. He response to the arresting officer was something like, “I’m not as trunk as you dhink I am osifer.” 

I believe he lost his license, job and his wife from that one.
– – –
He deserved it – as does any loser who tries to drive or ride when drunk.
In some states (like Georgia) you’ll automatically lose your license for a full year, even if you are a first time offender, for a DUI. You could face jail time, loss of your car and more. It’s not worth it. No on New Year’s Eve, not at any time.

Happy New Year.
Drive safely.
Easily amused by anything with four wheels, Nathan Adlen reviews vehicles from the cheapest to the most prestigious. Wrecking yards, dealer lots, garages, racetracks, professional automotive testing and automotive journalism – Nathan has experienced a wide range of the automotive spectrum. His words, good humor and video are enjoyed worldwide.

PLEASE drive safe!