DUI TALES
I really would rather not write this article. It is about the most shameful
moment in my life, and that’s saying something. Three years have
passed though, and I finally feel I can joke about it without weeping
on my keyboard. Before we go on, I can’t stress enough that I WASN’T
on duty. I was not working the cab the night this crime occurred. I had
the night off, got drunk and stupider than normal, and now I live to
regret it. Let’s dive in...
It was about 1:30am when this event began. I had just knocked out
a bottle of Jameson while enjoying some Sunday Night Football. I
was DRUNK. Joey drunk. For some reason, one that I can still not
figure out, I was too hungry to pass out. Also, for reasons still beyond
me, The Quarter wasn’t gonna cut it. I wanted a nasty, greasy bag of
Krystal Burgers. All the way on Bee Road. So, I proceeded to make a
terrible, no good decision to DUI myself there. Again, I have no clue
what I was thinking. I had never drunk driven before, and after this
December night, I never will again.
So, my trek began by jumping in our pepto-colored cab (conspicuous,
right?) and clipping my mail box as I backed out. Smart. Really
should’ve stopped there, but no. I’d be lying if I described the drive
there after that. I was blacked out, but I can only imagine it was
harrowing. Then, under the red light at Skidaway and Victory, I did
what I wish I had done before this idiotic trip began, I passed out. I
don’t know how long I was there, but I was found soon enough. The
next thing I remember is a bright light in my face and a voice asking
me to put the car in park. Something about that sobered me up in
about 1.6 seconds.
The very kind officer asked me if I had been drinking this evening.
Look, I was asleep at a red light and I knew I was going to jail. So I got
really honest. I replied, “Oh, yeah. A lot. You got me.” He nodded, and
insisted that we go ahead and do a sobriety test. I was puzzled at this
point, because I had just confessed. I asked why? He said protocol.
So we proceeded to do the tests. Touch your nose. Check. Walk a
straight line. Check. Eye test. Check. I passed them all. I was shocked
myself and actually thought for half a second I might escape. My
arresting officer however, was not amused. He informed me that I had
passed, but he still thought I was inebriated. Well, I told you I was, so
I can understand that. So he pulled out his breathalyzer. Now I have
heard before to never blow, and I told him as much. He then said
something about a blood test. I hate needles bad, so I took a deep
breath.
First puff. He chuckled and said, “Go again.” Second puff. He laughed
harder and said, “No way.” He asked me to guess what it was. I
30 TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | SEPT 2019
By Joey Goralczyk
under-balled it, hoping for the best, and replied, “.12?” He laughed
really hard and said, “.28.” That’s more than 3 times over, and I was
going to jail.
So I got cuffed for the first time in my life (fun!) and got a free ride
to the drunk tank at Chatham. That cop yelled at me the whole way
there too. He was so mad at me for passing the sobriety test, I think
he was legitimately concerned. When he asked how I did it, I simply
replied, “I live on Tybee.” He actually busted a gut laughing as I sank
as far into my seat as I could. My sense of humor was still in the pepto
cab I guess.
I’m gonna stop here for now. The aftermath of all this was depressing,
expensive and no fun at all. Not worth it. Not even close. Don’t do it.
Call a cab. Any cab. Always. There is nothing I regret more, and I’ve
done some dumb stuff in my life.
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