For the record...
Now that it's all over, I'd like to share exactly what happened this past St. Patrick's Day night. (Heh... day night)
I was planning to stay in for the night. St. Pats isn't exactly my scene.
But then I get a text from Kristy asking to get a drink with me at The Goat, a bar that's about a 3-minute walk from my house. Meeting up with Kristy for beers is an offer I am unable to refuse. So I walk to the bar, she gets there on a Keystone bus, and we meet up there at 7.
Between 7 and about 9:45, I had three beers and two shots. Shortly after that, we WALKED back to my house to hang out and sober up. We got there at just about 10. She had to get back to her place that night, but obviously wanted to get there safely, so she waited patiently for me to get sober again.
At 12:45, pretty much three hours since I had finished my last drink, I was sure I was ready to drive, but as a practice that I've been doing for over 4 years now, I still wait another half-hour to be really sure I'm ok to drive. So at 1:15, we get in my car and head to her apartment complex, roughly a mile and a half from my house.
The left-turn to the parking lot of the apartments is roughly 110 degrees, with a tall fence and thick trees on that corner. As I'm half-way into the turn, two police cars become visible. They had pulled over another driver (who turned out to be one of my lifties) and they were blocking off the one entrance to the lot. There was a car coming the other way down the road I was still on. I couldn't straighten back out and continue the way I was going, or I'd hit the car coming at me. If I tried to do a 2 or 3 point turn and go back the way I came, the car that was coming at me, who could be drunk for all I know and quite frankly have to assume on St. Pats, could run right into my passenger side, which I really did not want to happen.
The only safe option was to pull up next to one of the police cars.
We're still a good distance from Kristy's building. I didn't want her to walk that far alone in the dark with drunk people around. I wanted to go to a nearby gas station, who's lot is much closer to her building. But before I could back out, Officer Cornell was knocking on my window.
I roll my window down. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! CAN'T YOU SEE WE'RE TRYING TO DO SOMETHING HERE?! WHY ARE YOU GETTING IN OUR WAY?! WHERE DO YOU IDIOTS COME FROM?!" I, calmly, tried to explain to the officer what the situation was and that I was just backing out, but he would have none of it. He asked how wasted I was. I explained that I did have a few beers and shots earlier, but it had been over 3 and a half hours since I stopped, and I tried to assure him I was ok. At this point, he had me shut down my car, get out of my car, and told Kristy to go home.
Outside my car, I'm thinking, "Ok, just be calm and cooperate, he'll see you're fine, you'll be on your way." He then had me do a couple field sobriety tests. Frankly, I feel I did good for a nervous guy in a t-shirt and light hoodie on a 15-degree night. Officer Cornell did not seem to agree, as he then handcuffed me and told me I was under arrest for Driving Under the Influence of alcohol.
He then asks me if I wanted either a breathalyzer test, or blood test. Figuring he had one of those little breathalyzer things, and that I faint when I give blood, I chose breathalyzer. "Ok," I think again, "he'll give me a breathalyzer, see I'm not drunk, and I'll be on my way."
NOPE!
This is when I get thrown into the back of his police car, another officer takes my car and parks it in the lot (hey, they did one nice thing, let's not forget that), and Officer Cornell starts to drive us away.
"Soooo... I take it this means we can't do the breathalyzer here?" "Nope, gotta do it at the station."
Again, I try to put my confidence in this officer to do the right thing. "Ok, he'll take me to the station on the other side of the county, we'll do the breathalyzer, he'll see I'm not drunk, he'll let me go, I'll call a pal in Breckenridge to see if he can pick me up and let me crash at his place. I'll catch a bus back to Keystone in the morning and be late for work, but it's ok."
So we get to the Summit County jail, they take all my stuff, book me, blah blah blah. We finally get to the big breathalyzer machine. I give it a couple good blows. Officer Cornell complimented me on how well I did that. I explained I used to play saxophone.
The machine takes a few minutes to calculate my blood/alcohol level. "Want to take a guess on what you'll get?" he jests while we wait.
"Umm... well, I have absolutely ZERO experience in this field, but sure, I enjoy a good guessing game. I'll say... 0.02."
He LAUGHS at this. "No, you won't get lower than 0.08. I'll say 0.085." Then he goes on a rant on how WHEN I get over 0.08, I'll get two counts of DUI, I'll have my license taken, blah blah blah. In the middle of this rant, the machine prints out my score.
".......... 0.04."
"OH BANG! Guess I won that round, huh?" At this point of the night, I thought I deserved one smarmy comment.
Now, just to clarify here... it wasn't 0.049, not 0.047... it was 0.04... HALF the legal limit... HALF!!!
Officer Cornell tells me to go back to the holding cell. I go back, really quite certain he'd do a little paper work explaining his mistake, and I'd finally be on my way. I left the cell's door open, as I here Officer Cornell and another officer murmuring, something about "let's just push it".
Sure enough, a couple minutes later, the two officers bring me out of my cell and lead me to a random corner in the booking area.
"Look, Paul, you and I both know your mobility isn't consistent with a 0.04. What drugs have you done tonight?"
Ok, now I'm getting a little insulted.
"Absolutely none, and I know I've done nothing that would honestly make you think that."
Now the other officer, doing a mini nice-cop cameo, chimes in, "Look, we all do a little pot. It's no big deal. How much did you do tonight?"
"I've done none. I haven't done anything since last SUMMER! I highly doubt something that happened 6 months ago had any effect on me tonight!"
Officer Cornell takes the conversation over again. "Don't bullshit us! We'll do a piss test RIGHT NOW!"
"I'd like that! I really have to go! I want you to have as much physical evidence as you POSSIBLY CAN get from me! I INSIST we do a piss test!"
At this point, the two officers seem to forget that there's such a thing as urine analysis tests. "You're being charged with Driving While Ability Impaired. It's $1000 bond. Call a bondsman and go back to the holding cell."
I walked to the phone next to all the bond company cards and numbers. I was pretty speechless at this point. My confidence and trust in "the system" was betrayed far too many times in one night.
The station wouldn't take my check or credit cards for bail, so I had to call a bondsman (or woman, as it would turn out). They took $1200 out of my check card. $1k for the bond, $200 for themselves and a couple other jail fees. My bondswoman gave me a ride back to my car in Keystone. I got back home just in time to go to work, though I left at noon that day, since I kept passing out while standing. Not good for lift operations.
I went to bed every night for a month wondering, how can a guy who's been driving for 10 years without so much as a speeding ticket, a 25-year-old with a record so straight-laced clean it's almost embarrassing, who one night not only did NOTHING WRONG, but did EVERYTHING RIGHT, get completely fucked by one officer who made bad judgments and bad decisions all night?
FAST FORWARD!!
Morning of April 20th, I'm due at court for arraignment.
There's about 3-dozen people there, all for arraignment too. We all sit outside in the hallways, being called in one-by-one to talk to a District Attorney.
With so many people, us folks with "S" last-names were sitting for quite a while. About an hour and a half after I got there, I finally get called in.
The District Attorney who was handling my case, a very nice woman, looks at my very thin case file. "Paul, I've looked over your case a few times this past week... and... I'm a little confused on why you were arrested at all."
"Well, that makes two of us."
She asked me to explain what led to the officer having me get out of my car in the first place. I explain the whole traffic situation that happened.
"To be frank, I find it lame you were arrested to begin with, and after blowing such a low number, I find it ridiculous you were charged with anything at all. I'm just going to dismiss this case."
"Thank you!"
And with that, one really retarded night, one month struggling frantically financially, one month worrying about my future every night... all settled with a 3-minute conversation with a very sensible professional.
Faith in the system restored.
So for those of you who didn't know the whole story, there you go. And a big "Thank You" to all of you for your support and thoughts during this VERY trying month. I think I can finally relax again.
I was planning to stay in for the night. St. Pats isn't exactly my scene.
But then I get a text from Kristy asking to get a drink with me at The Goat, a bar that's about a 3-minute walk from my house. Meeting up with Kristy for beers is an offer I am unable to refuse. So I walk to the bar, she gets there on a Keystone bus, and we meet up there at 7.
Between 7 and about 9:45, I had three beers and two shots. Shortly after that, we WALKED back to my house to hang out and sober up. We got there at just about 10. She had to get back to her place that night, but obviously wanted to get there safely, so she waited patiently for me to get sober again.
At 12:45, pretty much three hours since I had finished my last drink, I was sure I was ready to drive, but as a practice that I've been doing for over 4 years now, I still wait another half-hour to be really sure I'm ok to drive. So at 1:15, we get in my car and head to her apartment complex, roughly a mile and a half from my house.
The left-turn to the parking lot of the apartments is roughly 110 degrees, with a tall fence and thick trees on that corner. As I'm half-way into the turn, two police cars become visible. They had pulled over another driver (who turned out to be one of my lifties) and they were blocking off the one entrance to the lot. There was a car coming the other way down the road I was still on. I couldn't straighten back out and continue the way I was going, or I'd hit the car coming at me. If I tried to do a 2 or 3 point turn and go back the way I came, the car that was coming at me, who could be drunk for all I know and quite frankly have to assume on St. Pats, could run right into my passenger side, which I really did not want to happen.
The only safe option was to pull up next to one of the police cars.
We're still a good distance from Kristy's building. I didn't want her to walk that far alone in the dark with drunk people around. I wanted to go to a nearby gas station, who's lot is much closer to her building. But before I could back out, Officer Cornell was knocking on my window.
I roll my window down. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! CAN'T YOU SEE WE'RE TRYING TO DO SOMETHING HERE?! WHY ARE YOU GETTING IN OUR WAY?! WHERE DO YOU IDIOTS COME FROM?!" I, calmly, tried to explain to the officer what the situation was and that I was just backing out, but he would have none of it. He asked how wasted I was. I explained that I did have a few beers and shots earlier, but it had been over 3 and a half hours since I stopped, and I tried to assure him I was ok. At this point, he had me shut down my car, get out of my car, and told Kristy to go home.
Outside my car, I'm thinking, "Ok, just be calm and cooperate, he'll see you're fine, you'll be on your way." He then had me do a couple field sobriety tests. Frankly, I feel I did good for a nervous guy in a t-shirt and light hoodie on a 15-degree night. Officer Cornell did not seem to agree, as he then handcuffed me and told me I was under arrest for Driving Under the Influence of alcohol.
He then asks me if I wanted either a breathalyzer test, or blood test. Figuring he had one of those little breathalyzer things, and that I faint when I give blood, I chose breathalyzer. "Ok," I think again, "he'll give me a breathalyzer, see I'm not drunk, and I'll be on my way."
NOPE!
This is when I get thrown into the back of his police car, another officer takes my car and parks it in the lot (hey, they did one nice thing, let's not forget that), and Officer Cornell starts to drive us away.
"Soooo... I take it this means we can't do the breathalyzer here?" "Nope, gotta do it at the station."
Again, I try to put my confidence in this officer to do the right thing. "Ok, he'll take me to the station on the other side of the county, we'll do the breathalyzer, he'll see I'm not drunk, he'll let me go, I'll call a pal in Breckenridge to see if he can pick me up and let me crash at his place. I'll catch a bus back to Keystone in the morning and be late for work, but it's ok."
So we get to the Summit County jail, they take all my stuff, book me, blah blah blah. We finally get to the big breathalyzer machine. I give it a couple good blows. Officer Cornell complimented me on how well I did that. I explained I used to play saxophone.
The machine takes a few minutes to calculate my blood/alcohol level. "Want to take a guess on what you'll get?" he jests while we wait.
"Umm... well, I have absolutely ZERO experience in this field, but sure, I enjoy a good guessing game. I'll say... 0.02."
He LAUGHS at this. "No, you won't get lower than 0.08. I'll say 0.085." Then he goes on a rant on how WHEN I get over 0.08, I'll get two counts of DUI, I'll have my license taken, blah blah blah. In the middle of this rant, the machine prints out my score.
".......... 0.04."
"OH BANG! Guess I won that round, huh?" At this point of the night, I thought I deserved one smarmy comment.
Now, just to clarify here... it wasn't 0.049, not 0.047... it was 0.04... HALF the legal limit... HALF!!!
Officer Cornell tells me to go back to the holding cell. I go back, really quite certain he'd do a little paper work explaining his mistake, and I'd finally be on my way. I left the cell's door open, as I here Officer Cornell and another officer murmuring, something about "let's just push it".
Sure enough, a couple minutes later, the two officers bring me out of my cell and lead me to a random corner in the booking area.
"Look, Paul, you and I both know your mobility isn't consistent with a 0.04. What drugs have you done tonight?"
Ok, now I'm getting a little insulted.
"Absolutely none, and I know I've done nothing that would honestly make you think that."
Now the other officer, doing a mini nice-cop cameo, chimes in, "Look, we all do a little pot. It's no big deal. How much did you do tonight?"
"I've done none. I haven't done anything since last SUMMER! I highly doubt something that happened 6 months ago had any effect on me tonight!"
Officer Cornell takes the conversation over again. "Don't bullshit us! We'll do a piss test RIGHT NOW!"
"I'd like that! I really have to go! I want you to have as much physical evidence as you POSSIBLY CAN get from me! I INSIST we do a piss test!"
At this point, the two officers seem to forget that there's such a thing as urine analysis tests. "You're being charged with Driving While Ability Impaired. It's $1000 bond. Call a bondsman and go back to the holding cell."
I walked to the phone next to all the bond company cards and numbers. I was pretty speechless at this point. My confidence and trust in "the system" was betrayed far too many times in one night.
The station wouldn't take my check or credit cards for bail, so I had to call a bondsman (or woman, as it would turn out). They took $1200 out of my check card. $1k for the bond, $200 for themselves and a couple other jail fees. My bondswoman gave me a ride back to my car in Keystone. I got back home just in time to go to work, though I left at noon that day, since I kept passing out while standing. Not good for lift operations.
I went to bed every night for a month wondering, how can a guy who's been driving for 10 years without so much as a speeding ticket, a 25-year-old with a record so straight-laced clean it's almost embarrassing, who one night not only did NOTHING WRONG, but did EVERYTHING RIGHT, get completely fucked by one officer who made bad judgments and bad decisions all night?
FAST FORWARD!!
Morning of April 20th, I'm due at court for arraignment.
There's about 3-dozen people there, all for arraignment too. We all sit outside in the hallways, being called in one-by-one to talk to a District Attorney.
With so many people, us folks with "S" last-names were sitting for quite a while. About an hour and a half after I got there, I finally get called in.
The District Attorney who was handling my case, a very nice woman, looks at my very thin case file. "Paul, I've looked over your case a few times this past week... and... I'm a little confused on why you were arrested at all."
"Well, that makes two of us."
She asked me to explain what led to the officer having me get out of my car in the first place. I explain the whole traffic situation that happened.
"To be frank, I find it lame you were arrested to begin with, and after blowing such a low number, I find it ridiculous you were charged with anything at all. I'm just going to dismiss this case."
"Thank you!"
And with that, one really retarded night, one month struggling frantically financially, one month worrying about my future every night... all settled with a 3-minute conversation with a very sensible professional.
Faith in the system restored.
So for those of you who didn't know the whole story, there you go. And a big "Thank You" to all of you for your support and thoughts during this VERY trying month. I think I can finally relax again.