When I was in college, I was dating this girl who by no means was an alcoholic, but who did like to imbibe an occasional Irish coffee now and then. One evening we had gone out to dinner with a few of my friends, and she decided to have one of these Irish coffees. Upon learning that it contained alcohol, I refused to let her drive herself home. I explained that even a drop of alcohol was enough to begin impairing her senses, and she would become both a danger to herself and others on the road. After a few rounds of heated debating, she finally consented.
I got in her car to drive her home with one of my friends following in my car, so I could get back. I threw the car in reverse and let the car start rolling out of the parking space, backing over a motorcycle parked on the other side of the lot. I looked over at my girlfriend, face rapidly turning red, and waited for the comment I knew was coming. She didn’t let me down responding, “And I’m the drunk one?!”
