What seems to be the Officer, problem?
We all know how it goes. Friday night, time to cast off that worn out, sombre demeanor from the tiresome work week and transform into that wild, fun person all your friends know and love as you get into the celebratory end-of-the-week festivities. We all have our own preferences for winding down on a Friday night, whether its curling up on the couch with your cat in front of SABC 3, or surrounded by all your mates somewhere in a place where the challenge is on over who can speak the loudest and who can hear themselves over the array of blaring voices.
If your preference is closer to the latter then you will, possibly, be found either in a bar or club, or at a friend’s home. What will be the focal point of the evening? Alcohol of course, and quite possibly, copious amounts of it. Picture this scenario: you’re at friend’s party at their house, the drinks are being poured, and it’s only seven in the evening. The night is still young. After two and a half hours, and two empty bottles of whisky you all decide to take this party elsewhere. This of course, requires transportation to the destination decided on, and with you being the more sober one out of the group the car keys get tossed your way. You think to yourself, ‘yeah I can do this, it’s not like I’ve never not pulled it off before’. As all six of you squash into your not too spacious sedan, you notice the vital ‘beers for the road’ placed between the legs of your maniacally-grinning intoxicated friends and your booze-fuelled spirit soars. Time to continue this party on the road for the time being. You crank up the front loader’s volume and off you go.
You’re halfway on this fun adventure, carrying on like you never even left the party, you ask one of your buddies to pass you a beer. Just as the refreshingly cold fluid passes through your lips and down your throat you turn to your right and find yourself face to face with a policeman’s scowl, who’s sitting in the car adjacent to you. You’re thinking that this is just your luck as you’re instructed to pull your mobile party machine to the side of the road. And you can imagine what happens next. Or can you? Do you know the consequences for being caught driving under the influence of alcohol, whether you even feel drunk or not? Well firstly, you will be asked to blow into a merciless pipe, the first step into your demise, which will notify you shortly just how skrewed you are. After you fail the breathalyzer test miserably, you are then handcuffed and taken to a police station to proceed with a blood test. That was the easy part. Now the nauseating downward spiral to give you the biggest wake up call and crash land you into a reality check is just beginning. You are put into a holding cell where you’re usually made to spend the night in. There you will spend the next possible 12 hours with your back against the wall while your prison-tattoo clad cell mate and their unmerry men eye you up, in the least. Your mommy and daddy couldn’t feel anymore further away right now.
After that traumatic ordeal is over you’ll be summoned to court where you can receive up to a R120 000 fine or a ten year prison sentence, or sometimes even both. If you exceed the legal blood alcohol level limit of 0,05 grams per 100 millilitres of blood, which is basically equivalent to only two drinks for men and only one for women, you will have to face up to the penalty awarded for what you might have thought of as ‘harmless’ driving while under the influence of alcohol. Worth it? No. Rather scrounge for some change and split a taxi, appoint a designated Dave, or just remain where the party started and claim your friend’s comfiest couch in advance. Don’t be a fool, only drive sober and be, well, cool.
Written by Cassandra
Written by Cassandra
