My Favorite Friday Night

( by BB)

I really hate questions which oblige me to lie. I’m telling you, It always makes me to make up slow-witted answers. Why lies? You might think! Or you’d peeve on me, and say how dare I lie about this and that. Was that the good manner of what my mom taught me? No! How about the tenth commandment; Won’t I have at least the fear of God? Trust me, but I got all those and even got exceptional moral values and decent principles of life: my conscience pulls out its scariest sword and starts working on my poor heart so painfully;It slices it into smaller pieces for every fabrication I perform. What would I do, you tell me, when an officer pulls me over on Friday night?

Cop. After the default greetings and questionnaires, will ask “have you been drinking?” If earth has been on paradise in which no lie has ever been mentioned, with pride you’d supposedly reply, “Officer, you bet on that I did. I had such a great time with my buddies, and particularly, this night will be recorded in my dairy book as most important Friday night ever. Yea, I drank. Don’t bother about anything at all, and I'm fine and don’t need the drunk-ass ride services either.’ But, since you are not there yet, your unpleasantness here will determine your suffering of days, of weeks, of months, or in some instances, of years to come. Mark me here. You have to lie. If you tell the truth that same truth comes against you in the court room. If not, you will be drag to the court house anyway. And prosecutors and some judges inevitably squeeze the juice out of you. It is up to the individual who chooses either the first or the second one. But, I always like to stick with the second option. Truth always is most precious in a place where it is only valued most.

Then, ‘Have you been drinking?’ brings the complete drama of the court room, lawyers, an angry judge, fees and on and on in your mind. Everything is unfolding in your Friday night brain one after another. You know that you're not going to make it with that ridiculous breath test, and also, you know that driving is not your birth right. Then, you would say ( to the askance) ”yea, only two beers’ (If I were the cop, I could‘ve sent you straight to your home in peace, for you admitted the truth. But, for the cops, believe me my friend that is just the beginning of your suffering).

Actually, you don’t have at hand the right transaction of how many glasses you’ve emptied by your self, alone, and even the inventory list of whatever you've been enjoyed, excluding Shots. But, you'll be questioned, For sure, and order to step out of your vehicle. yea, he'd chuckle in his bosom.

After the default search, instantaneously, you’d be given that silly breathalyzer(pacifier) to breathe air into it, just to check out your consumption. Like I did attempt so many times, you might try hard to pass the test. This is a great challenge and stupid test for the helpless drunk person with a flush light light on right on his face. Of course, you’ll try harder to filter out the breath of clean air from the alcohol. And, you might wish God installs some kind of magical alcohol strainer somewhere in your lung; or hope polluted and unpolluted airs have run in each of their own routes. Then, what you’re going to do is preserve the alcohol, or dilute it with the out side fresh air. Yet, all these attempts are just in vain.

You see how feeble we are. We don’t even acquire the capability of changing the wrong moments. That’s why I told you,this will be a comic show to your tester, the cop. If this happens in a broad day light, you could visualize the scarlet all over the cop's feature. That, simply, tells, you're there for him, God sent, Jay Leno of the long late-night-shift. No my friend,he won’t let you go free.