“A drunk driver is very dangerous. So is a drunk backseat driver if he's persuasive”

I have another secret to tell… have I told you guys that I have a thing for bartenders! Ok maybe that wasn’t the biggest secret I have told, LOL… If you have been following my stories, you have probably realized that I love drinking and duh, of course bartenders are my friends. Bartenders are amazing, but they can fuck you up if you love them too much.

Alcohol makes my alter ego come out and depending on the alcohol consumed, it can (sometimes) get ugly. I have figured out that rum is my best friend. I like a certain type of rum, so when a certain bar doesn’t have it, I tend to divert and usually mix alcohol (which is never beneficial). If you are older than 25, you know the effects of mixing more than one type of alcohol in one night. If you don’t, then you just took a little longer to figure it out. You will experience the hangover one of these days...It’s a thing we call LIFE.

So one night I committed to driving down to this amazing happy hour with "Crown Royal" but I had already been to my usual bar, I probably started drinking that day by around 3 p.m. I had my usual regular sex session but my sexual partner got called away on business fairly early. Do you know what that means?! It's now 5:30 p.m. on a Saturday and for me the party is just starting. Sooooo I showered, got dressed and took that hour drive to make happy hour. I, of course, made a pit stop to my pothead friend before taking the ride. Wow! Now that I look back at it, I must have had over 10 drinks from 3 to 5:30 which included a mix of some Whiskey, some Vodka, some Rum, some Beer, some shots on top of smoking cigs and add weed to that equation…. Let’s just say definitely not good choice were made that day....

I think this is a good time to introduce “Muscle Man”. Muscle man was a shit show. Problems surrounded us, well him at least. He was always in fights with guys and girls at the bar (which I bounced on too or tried to stop, if necessary). He has gotten arrested multiple times with me alone, along with lots of sex, more drugs and even more lies to top it off. And to top that off, he was a male entertainer (the professional way of saying stripper). The only reason I kept his ass around was because he brought me a few men and women to play with.

Unfortunately, this night wasn't going to be one of those amazing nights. This night was different. After those drinks, an hour drive, a margarita happy hour that I will never forget (2 pitchers later), I made a stupid decision and drove home. Why you ask? I was horny as fuck, that’s why!

When I want it, I have to have it! Driving home, texting and debating which man will satisfy my needs for the night, “Muscle Man” texted at the right time and said he wasn’t far from my house. Of course, my drunk ass goes to that lounge. More drinks, some more smokes, and we are off to his house. Driving down the highway, and no I wasn’t swerving….

Learned a great life lesson that night, never drink and drive! NEVER! Ok maybe not never, but don’t do it. Soooo a cop had a car pulled over and I drove right past him, at regular speed might I add. 2 minutes later, he’s chasing me lights and sounds behind me. Apparently, there is a law that if someone is in the shoulder lane (a cop or not), you have to slow down or move over to the next lane. Who knew that? Not fucking me!

Remember Muscle Man AKA trouble maker is in the car with me…. If I was alone, I probably would have gotten away with it. But I realize now, I wasn’t supposed to get away with it.

I'm speaking to the cop and “Muscle Man” starts yelling over my shoulder as to why we got pulled over. Another cop was with him by the passenger seat and there was lovely “Muscle Man”,” who wasn’t driving but because “Muscle Man” thinks he’s strong and drunk, they ended up dragging him out of my car. Complete belligerent drunk fucking dumb ass of muscle is all I thought. Sooooo the cops start asking questions like if we were drinking. Note to self, always say no! Even saying “you only had a glass of wine” will get you the sobriety test. Which I apparently failed, don’t know how, I thought I passed with flying colors. I then get handcuffed and placed into the back of the cop car. At this point, backup has arrived and 2 more cop cars are behind his. This makes a total of 8 cops (they car pooled apparently) trying to put handcuffs on this monster. I’m watching all this from the back of a cop car (facepalm).

As I sit there thinking about this life and why this happened. Truth be told, I was getting reckless and needed an eye opening moment. I got one for sure. At the police station, reality actually hit me. I apparently needed to make that phone call for someone to pick my ass up. And, no Uber, is irrelevant at this point. I needed an actual person that knew me to physically sign their rights to me and “promise” that I’m their responsibility from jail to home. Depression hit home in that police station. I guess I was cute enough to not be placed in a cell but it wasn’t a walk in the park either.

They had to pepper spray “Muscle Man” to get him to the floor on the highway and all I can hear in the next room is him crying and complaining his eyes were burning. One cute cop was stationed in the room with me at all times. Great (I wasn’t hating that situation at that time)! Not like I can do anything in here without everyone knowing it LMAO.

I was then told to call someone to pick my ass up. Well that’s a tough one. Not my parents, they would literally kill me. Sister, well that wasn’t the best option. I gave the cop 7 numbers to call and most said no (it was about 2am on a Friday night), and some didn’t answer and the other declined my call. I haven’t felt so rejected in my entire life. Then reality hit me that I have no one to actually bail me out of a mess (that were in the same state at least). I had to beg the cop to give me my phone to look through my contacts, while crying, and came across an old fuck buddy that owned a bar that I could count on. It’s amazing that this person dropped everything and came to pick my ass up. Shameful moment in the car with him and I can’t repay him in any way (especially because I don’t do married men, but more because the true friendship after 17 years (with minimal fucking) showed it’s true colors). I would do anything for this man and he would do anything for me. That’s true friendship. Who says you can’t be friends with a man you used to know or fuck...

It took me this experience to get rid of “Muscle Man”. I truly hate him and will never know what would have happened if he was not in my car that night. He was cut off that night but not deleted (only because maybe he can get me a bitch or two). The sad part is that I still get texts to this day with some dirty pussy pics (I always ask for pics) and of course dick pics I never asked for that he assumes I wanted. No thank you, nothing I’m interested in! You fucked up my life, why would I want that back???