Last Updated on September 14, 2025 by Michael
Blue lights.
That specific shade of oh-shit-blue that makes your sphincter achieve dimensions previously only theorized by quantum physicists.
And there you are, sitting in your Honda Civic that still has the “Baby on Board” sticker from the previous owner (there’s no baby, you just thought it might make cops go easier on you), trying to remember exactly how many “just one mores” you had at Derek’s divorce party. The one where his ex-wife showed up. With her new boyfriend. Who’s a cop.
Actually, wait. Is this that cop?
No time to figure it out because here he comes, and you’re about to fail this test harder than you failed that semester of Spanish where you thought “el” and “la” were interchangeable.
1. You Just Tried to Fist Bump the Cop
Nothing says “completely sober citizen” like greeting law enforcement with “Yo, what’s good, officer… uh… bro?”
You extend that fist. He doesn’t move. You keep it extended. Still nothing. Now you’re just holding your fist out there like you’re about to play the world’s saddest game of rock-paper-scissors. Finally, you pretend you were just stretching. Nobody believes this. Not even you.
When he asks for your license and registration, you hand him:
- A Blockbuster card from 2003
- A napkin with someone’s Instagram handle
- Three dollars in quarters
- Half a quesadilla (?)
The quesadilla is the most confusing part. Where did it come from? Why is it in your glove compartment? Why is there only half?
These are questions for sober you. Drunk you is now explaining to the officer that you “know your rights” because you’ve seen every episode of Law & Order. The original one. And SVU. And Criminal Intent. You start humming the theme song.
He’s not impressed.
2. Your “Alphabet Backwards” Sounds Like You’re Having a Stroke in Swedish
Z-Y-X-W-V-U…
Salamander.
That’s… that’s not a letter. That’s an amphibian. Now you’re arguing that salamander starts with S so technically you’re not wrong, and the officer’s expression has transcended normal human emotion and entered a state of pure existential defeat that philosophers will study for generations.
3. The Straight Line is Your Everest
Nine steps. Heel to toe. A toddler could do this. A reasonably intelligent golden retriever could do this.
You cannot do this.
Your first step is diagonal. Your second step is… somehow behind you? You’ve defied physics. You’ve broken causality. Scientists at MIT are going to write papers about how you managed to walk backwards while facing forward. You’re moonwalking but badly and in the wrong direction and nobody asked for this.
“Am I doing good?” you ask, while literally facing the opposite direction from where you started, standing in the grass, one shoe missing.
The other shoe is on the hood of the police car. Nobody knows how it got there. Nobody wants to know.
4. You Keep Offering the Officer Gum Like It’s a Hostage Negotiation
“Gum?” “No.” “You sure?” “Yes.” “It’s cinnamon.” “No thank you.” “But it’s the good cinnamon.” “Sir—” “THE GOOD KIND.”
You’re now aggressively chewing an entire pack of Big Red like your life depends on it, which technically it might, but that’s not how any of this works. Your mouth looks like a washing machine full of cinnamon sadness. You’re generating so much saliva you’re literally drooling.
This is not helping your case.
5. Your Story Has More Holes Than Swiss Cheese at a Shooting Range
You were at Bible study. At a bar. That serves communion wine. In shot glasses. It’s called “Crosses and Shots” and it’s a ministry for… young professionals?
No wait, you were at your niece’s recital. She plays the… drums? At night? At a venue called “Whiskey Dick’s”?
Your shirt literally says “I’m Not Drunk, You’re Just Blurry” but sure, tell the officer more about that charity auction.
6. You Can’t Find Your Mouth with the Breathalyzer
This is genuinely tragic. You’ve had a mouth for your entire life. You found it this morning when you brushed your teeth (presumably). You found it repeatedly tonight when you were doing shots of something that tasted like Christmas trees mixed with regret.
But now? This breathalyzer might as well be alien technology.
Attempt #1: You blow on your own thumb Attempt #2: You try to inhale Attempt #3: You blow, but with your mouth completely closed Attempt #4: You miss entirely and blow on the officer’s shoulder Attempt #5: You ask if you can “phone a friend”
This isn’t Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. This is Who Wants to Go to Jail. And you’re winning.
7. You Keep Insisting You’re “Actually Better At Driving When You’re Drunk”
Oh buddy. Oh no. You said it. You said the thing that every drunk person thinks is a legitimate defense but is actually just admitting to crimes.
You’re now explaining your “technique” which involves:
- Closing one eye (for focus)
- Driving barefoot (for “pedal feel”)
- Only making right turns (to avoid “complicated intersections”)
- Blasting techno music (for “alertness”)
- Talking to yourself in the third person (Kevin thinks this helps Kevin concentrate)
Kevin does not drive better drunk. Kevin drives like a lobotomized baboon sober, and drunk Kevin drives like that baboon is also on fire.
8. Your Phone Is Screaming Your Business to the World
SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS EVERYBODY
Your ringtone. At a volume that’s making dogs three counties over start howling. The officer is trying to talk and Lil Jon is providing the soundtrack to your downfall.
Your phone lights up with texts:
- “Brad’s wife is here with new boyfriend ABORT ABORT”
- “Dude where are you with my car”
- “THE CAR YOU’RE DRIVING IS MINE KEVIN”
Wait.
This isn’t even your car?
Mom’s calling. You answer it. ON SPEAKER. She immediately launches into “I SWEAR TO GOD KEVIN IF YOU’RE DRUNK AGAIN I’M TAKING YOU OFF THE WILL. YOU’RE 37 YEARS OLD.”
The officer didn’t need to know your age, Kevin. Or about the will. Or that this is a recurring issue.
Your One Phone Call Is a Journey to Rock Bottom
You’ve failed. Obviously. You failed so hard they’re going to name a new type of failure after you. The Kevin Scale of Fucking Up.
Your one phone call strategy:
First: Domino’s. Not for bail, just because you’re hungry. Second: Your ex from college who’s now married with three kids. Third: Someone in your phone just labeled “DO NOT CALL.” You call. Fourth: It’s your therapist. She doesn’t answer. Her voicemail says she’s on vacation specifically because of you.
Finally, Mom.
She doesn’t say anything for seventeen seconds. Just breathing. The kind of breathing that says “I should have gotten that abortion.”
Look, here’s the brutal truth nobody wants to hear: If you’re too drunk to say “breathalyzer,” you’re too drunk to operate a machine that kills 38 people a day. That’s not a statistic, that’s 38 families destroyed because someone thought they were “totally fine” after housing a bottle of Fireball in a Chili’s parking lot.
You’re not a good drunk driver. You’re not even a good sober driver – remember when you hit that mailbox in broad daylight because you were trying to catch a Pokémon?
The Uber app is RIGHT THERE. On the phone you’re using to Google “is jail wifi good?” (It’s not.) That ride would cost you thirty bucks. This DUI is going to cost you ten grand, your license, your dignity, and your ability to rent a car until you’re fifty.
Math. Do it.
Don’t be the person whose mugshot becomes a meme. Don’t be the reason your nephew has to explain to his class why Uncle Kevin can’t come to career day anymore. Don’t be another statistic that makes mothers cry at 3 AM.
Call the Uber. Call Lyft. Call your ex’s new boyfriend – honestly, Brad’s wife’s new cop boyfriend would probably drive you home just to flex on Brad.
Just don’t drive.
Because nothing – absolutely nothing – is worth explaining to your cellmate why you’re in there wearing a shirt that says “I’m Not Drunk, You’re Just Blurry” while stone-cold sober and deeply, profoundly fucked.
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