Last night, while drunk and driving home from dining out, I was heard saying, "it only has to look like it's on". I was referring to my seatbelt.
I'm normally a safety conscious driver. I put on my seatbelt before starting the car. I am aware and considerate of other drivers. I use the directional to signal upcoming turns, even when turning into my driveway. When I'm lit and driving, however, anything goes. I fancy myself a cannonballer at such times. Dah, Dah, Dah! Captain Chaos!
Last night, after slinging back a few (including what I am fairly sure was a double shot of Windex with a splash of lemon juice in it), the Captain appeared to chariot me home.
I was skillfully swirving over the yellow line and back while hiccupping madly, when I saw straight ahead the flashing blue lights of a police car. Realizing that I was a) hammered, b) driving (and rather fucked uppedly so), and c) not wearing my seatbelt (which would tack an additional twenty dollar fine onto the ticket I was sure to receive), I reached over my shoulder for the seatbelt. I managed to grab the belt, yank it across my body, and fasten it securely to my crotch at the exact moment I passed the police car.
From the passenger seat (yes, I was endangering more than just my own life), I heard, "Jesus Christ! Buckle it for fuck's sake!"
I replied, "I can't, but fuck it, it only has to look like it's on."
Luckily, the cop was preoccupied on the opposite side of the road handing a ticket to another driver. And I wasn't drunk. Ok, I was.
See you on the roadways.