We drove to the drive in. I know that is horrible. It was a different time but I knew better. Sure it was closer to Donald Draper devil may care but driving toasted and picking up my kid brother was wrong and I knew it. I was going with the flow though.
I think a lot of us who have lived life enjoyably, particularly during years when drinking and driving, even though it was just as dangerous (or more so), didn't have the social stigma it has now (and deservedly so).
Several decades ago, I told Grandma I was having an after-hours beer with a client. This was before cell phones. She said okay. We had our beer, and we were laughing and having a great time. Other acquaintances showed up, more beer flowed, we finally figured we ought to order some food.
It was the Twilight Zone for timekeeping. It seemed like we'd been talking for a half an hour, and I look at the time, and two hours have gone by. Whaaat? Okay, one more beer (at some point, there was a round or more of Crowns ordered), finish it, and go. Much hilarity - maybe a half hour? No, I'm looking at the clock again, and another two hours have bit the dust. Whhhaaaaattt?
Okay, I've got to get home. I walk out and realize that I'm pretty cooked, but I've got the only family car we have, and I'm running so late, and Grandma is already so PO'd, I know, so I'll do what I can, get to the car, and....
While I was in the bar enjoying myself, freezing rain had hit outside. Everything, including the car, was covered with a sheet of ice. I'm frantically scraping a layer of solid ice off the car (actually, a minivan), because every minute, I know, is increasing the bride's ire.
I finally get the ice scraped and hit the road. I was terror-stricken the whole way. The roads were terribly icy. There was nothing wrong with my driving, and sure, drunk people say that, but I had adrenalin racing through, I was driving slowly, carefully, watchfully, staying under the speed limit, staying between the lines, and all with the terrible knowledge that it didn't even matter. If someone came sliding through a stoplight or stop sign on the icy road and pasted me, I'd never get through the Breathalyzer, and even driving perfectly, and not being at fault, I would Go To Jail, Go Directly To Jail, Do Not Pass Go, etc.
I made it home. Grandma laid into me. As she should. I could only take it and admit that, yes, I was an inconsiderate jerk. The only good point was that with that frightful drive home, my actual condition was pretty well masked, and she didn't realize how toasted I was. Don't tell her, okay?
That was the last time I drove in that condition. All in all, it was as cheap a lesson as I could hope for.