Unlike the night before, this night I was looking for a DUI. And like the night before and so many that summer, Milan was out patrolling with me. The number of DUI arrests that I made only encouraged me to go look for more so we were out making traffic stops. I would stop just about any traffic violation I could find. I would talk with the driver, checking for any signs of impairment or the smell of alcohol, then I would run the driver for warrants and in most cases let them go with a warning. On Friday and Saturday night, it's just a game of averages. Stop enough cars and you'll get a DUI.
It's not like they'll all make their presence known by running you off the road.
I stopped a van, I forget why, and checked the driver. Everything checked out so I gave him a verbal warning and we got back in the cop car. Most cops will wait for the pulled over vehicle to get safely back into traffic before they take off. It's a safety thing. We protect the vehicle and warn approaching vehicles with our lights that there is a vehicle on the shoulder. Some cops are killed doing this.
Part of the reason they are killed is because people tend to steer where they look. They look to the right, checking out the pretty lights, and they steer their car toward the lights as well.
So I've released the driver and I'm watching the rearview mirror (or the 2 X 6 horror show as Rabies calls it) and I see a car coming up the road drifting toward my cop car. It keeps on coming and it looks like it's going to hit me. I put both hands on the steering wheel and my head against the headrest, bracing for impact. He misses my side mirror by inches.
"Shit!" Milan said, not having the luxury of the rearview mirror and me being selfish with a warning for him.
"Oh no, you di'nt," I said, and dropped the car into drive and took off. By the time I was behind him, he was across the center line, having way over-corrected for just about hitting a cop car. I managed to get his attention and made the stop not too far down the road.
I approached the vehicle and looked in at the driver. He was sitting there with both hands on the steering wheel and puke down the front of him. This is what the FBI would call "a clue". I have a usual set of questions that I ask when I suspect a DUI but I threw them out the window.
"Been drinking?" I said.
For all of the answers to these questions, it helps if you have seen the movie Meet Joe Black. When Joe is first getting used to his new body, he says yes in this slow but certain manner. I can't explain it any better than that so on with the story.
"Yes," he said.
"How much would you say? Too much?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
I put on my latex gloves and had him step out of the car. I was afraid that once I had him standing, I was going to have to catch him. That happens quite a bit and it's amazing that fall-down drunks would even get into a car, and once in, get them to go anywhere near straight enough to get home.
I took him off the road where we would be safe and checked his eyes. 6 points out of a possible 6 points. He didn't have "head nystagmus" which is a funny thing to watch that some really intoxicated people get.
Next I had him stand with one foot in front of the other. I waited to explain the rest of the test because I was sure that he wasn't going to be able to even stand there. He did stand there and I thought maybe I was misjudging him. So I started explaining the test and demonstrating it. It's the "walk the straight line" test. I took a few steps and he stepped into an easier balanced stance.
"Dude, I'm drunk," he said.
"Would you say that you are too intoxicated to even attempt these tests?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Should I just arrest you for DUI and we can skip all this?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"Okay, you're under arrest for DUI."
And my reputation for having DUIs turn themselves into me grew. And yet, the summer wasn't over yet.
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