Roadside Sobriety Test

On Tuesday, on the way to pick up Mike and see Superman, I was pulled over because I had a broken tail light. 
Unfortunately, I had had a beer shortly before I was stopped, which meant that I was queued up to experience something special: The roadside sobriety test!

There were two officers in the car, and I had the feeling the one who was working with me was new at it. I was definitely nervous, but know enough about my blood alcohol level to know that there was no way I was at a California DUI-level: 0.08%.

I stepped out of the car and was led over to a stretch of sidewalk. 

First, the officer asked me to follow her finger with my eyes, not my head, as she moved it through the air, from left to right. My eyes slid all the way from the left to my right ear, as if I was trying to see my own ears. I guess that went alright, but she wasn't giving any feedback yet.

After the first physical test, she asked about 15 questions about my drinking and driving.
Where are you headed?
Where did you come from?
Where are you now?

I had already told her I had had one beer, but she had follow up questions.

Did you have any other drinks tonight?
Where did you drink the beer?
How long ago did you finish the beer?
How long did it take to drink it?
What type of beer did you have?
What size was the glass?
What have you had to eat tonight?
How much sleep did you have last night?
Are you on any medication?
Do you have any medical problems?
Is there anything wrong with your car?

These questions seemed like they were designed to defeat any legal defenses I might have if and when my DUI case went to court. 

I didn't think it would come to that, but I did find myself answering in a way which would demonstrate how lucid I was, instead of in ways which would help my legal defense, such as "I don't remember".

Next it was time for the physical challenges! There were two more.

Before a physical test, she gave me the instructions on what to do. She warned me not to start until she told me to, and not before I understood the directions.  I don't think I've ever paid closer attention to a set of instructions in my life! 

Pass these tests and save $10,000.
First, she asked me to tap my fingertips together on my left hand, using my thumb, I was to tap each fingertip on that hand and count one to four as I tapped them. 1,2,3,4. Then I'd reverse it and count backwards. 4,3,2,1. Three times. No problem. I exectuted this flawlessly, and was ready to try the right hand. 

The right hand test was just as successful. 

The next test was to check my balance. She reminded me again to wait for all the instructions before I started.

This time I'd need to stand on one foot, with the other foot raised up about ten inches, and I'd have to count off the seconds in this manner, "one-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand..." until she instructed me to stop.

I acknowledged that I understood and she instructed me to start. I lifted my foot and started counting off the seconds. No problem.

I was surprised she didn't stop me at 10-one thousand. I kept going. I was steady.

 At about 21-one thousand, I realized I wasn't on a flat part of the sidewalk. This was a ramp which was constructed to help cars into a now-fenced off parking lot off of the street. I probably should have asked to relocate before we started these tests. 

I think she stopped me at 25. Next I tried the other foot. No problem.

That was it. I didn't slip with my balance or with my counting. 

That was it for the physical challenges. I had assumed that my flawless execution of these tests would allow me to forego the breathalyzer test, but I was wrong. I had to blow the breathalyzer.

Her partner had prepared the test equipment, a small machine about the size of a walkie-talkie. It had a new plastic mouthpiece.

Once I realized I'd be blowing a test, I did the only preventative measure that I was aware of, taking several super-deep breaths, trying to expel any air from my lungs which had risen to the level of alcohol in my blood. Deep breaths, like I was hyperventalating. At first I was doing it subtly, to not arouse her suspicions of my counter-measures, but she didn't react to it. She actually seemed concerned that I was freaking out.

"Don't worry, if you really only had one beer, you have nothing to worry about".

She gave me the instructions. "when I say go, take a deep breath and blow. Keep blowing until I say stop."

I complied. It wasn't blowing very long before she got a reading. 

"See! You had nothing to worry about." She withdrew the breathalyzer, satisfied with my relative sobriety. "Usually we give the breathalyzer twice, but you aren't close to the limit."

She then asked me to go back and wait in my car. 

That was it. I passed. A few minutes later she came back to my window with a fix-it-ticket, compelling me to fix the taillight and get the violation checked by another police officer.  

I was on my way. The whole stop lasted about 20 minutes, and we got to Superman in plenty of time to snag a good seat.

It was an interesting experience, I kind of hated it, because I felt like if I slipped up, I would have been in serious trouble. Don't drink and drive. Even if your driving is indistinguishable from that of a sober person, you may be betrayed by a broken taillight.

Breathalyzer Testing
how to beat a speeding ticket in California
Getting escorted out of Walmart
Flipping over a car
My homemade speed trap