Drinking five shots of tamarind vodka is a constraint for a person to not drive a car. Drunk people are restricted from getting behind a wheel late at night. I stopped by for a fillet o' fish from a mcds two minutes away from my house. Before I could enter the drive through, a white man with thick glasses signals to me. I stop and open my window out of optimism. "Hey man, can you drive me down the road?" the man asks. I had the right amount of liquor in my system to give this stranger a ride home. It's 2:53am in B-city. What could go wrong? The man entered my car smelling of cigarettes. That's good, I could use the second hand nicotine to focus my drunk driving. The man mentioned he wouldn't rob me before entering my car. I trusted him. I was drunk enough to fight back if he went against me. The man's name was Adrian, he was 49 years old, and he looked much younger. I asked what his secret to youth was, "It's because of a vegan diet, I've been hardcore at it for 24 years" he points at his vegan neck tattoo proudly. I was too lit––admiring Adrian's commitment––no longer looking at the road. Anyway, fast forward an 8 minute drive to a random plaza led by a stranger, with two cop cars parked in the middle of it. Adrian wasn't aware of the ciroc and gatorade sitting by my cup holder. All I must do to avoid the cops is drive as if sober.
