Years ago I had gone out to Piere’s with a few friends. I was drinking, having fun and at one point talking on the phone to a friend of ours who I had a flirty relationship with. It seems it was his birthday and he was sitting home all by his lonesome. Well I’d been drinking, and he and I always seem to have the hots for each other. So when he told me I should be his birthday present I thought why not.

I jump into my car, it was about 1am, and start heading to Columbia City. I decided to take old 30. It was the back way from Piere’s and I figured it would keep me off the main highway. With it being a country road I’m quite sure I was speeding. Hell, knowing me I was probably driving in the middle of the road. Those country roads tend to be narrow with no lines and I was just driving along, trying to remember the way to this guy’s house.

Suddenly I see it…Those fucking blue and red lights in my rearview mirror. Only someone who has been pulled over when drinking can understand the complete gut retching feeling. Your heart pounds as if you are having a heart attack, you feel like puking and the only words going through one’s mind is, “Oh Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck” So I pulled over.

When the officer came up to my window I handed him my driver’s license, registration and insurance card. He glanced at it, shown his flashlight on my face, and then our conversation proceeded as such:

“Where are you headed?”

“To a friend’s house in Columbia City”

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Well I don’t know his real name, just his nickname.”

“Where does he live?”

“I’m not sure of the address, but I think I know how to get there.”

“Why are you going there?”

“Well, it’s his birthday and I guess I’m his present.” (As I shrug my shoulders, hold my palms up and kind of nod my head with a “ya know” look)

“Where are you coming from?”

“Piere’s”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“A lot.”

At that point the officer asked me to step out of the car. I just knew I was fucked. I had to do the standard toe to heel walking and touch my nose. I thought I did ok on that until he pulled out the breathalyzer. He had me blow and kept having to tell me to blow harder and to not stop until he said so. I did as I was told and blew a .05. Although most people would think since I was under .08 I was fine and he would let me go. But see, I knew better. I had already admitted to drinking, a lot, and since I blew a .05 it was really up to the officer’s discretion if I should be arrested or not. Then this fucker did something that really threw me for a loop.

He looked at the breathalyzer, looked at me, then said:

“I want you to count backwards from 100 by 7’s.”

“Excuse me?”

“Count backwards by 7’s.”

“You want me to do what?”

“I want you to count backwards from 100 by 7’s.”

Now, I’m panicking at this point. That shit is hard enough sober let alone when I’ve been drinking! I’ve had cops ask me where I worked, ask who I was dating, put handcuffs on me just to see if I could get out of them, Hell even had one ask me out. But I’ve never even HEARD of an officer asking someone to count backwards by 7’s. This is where Karma, the grace of God or plain and simple good luck was shining on me. I’ve always been good at math. As a child we’re talking (3-4) I would do math problems for fun. So I started praying and counting.

“100, 93, 86, 79, 72, 65, “

At that point he told me I could stop and return to my vehicle. After handing me back my license and registration he told me to drive safe and have a good night. He started walking back to his vehicle and you would have thought I would just leave. But of course not. I hang halfway out my window and yell, “Hey! Hey officer! How do I get to Columbia City? My friend ________ is still expecting me to come over for his birthday!” I’m shocked as shit he didn’t just come back and arrest me. Instead he gave me directions. Maybe it was my awesome math skills or he just wanted _________ to have a good birthday. Either way, my ass got lucky that night. Twice…