We went hiking recently at one of the infamous Ithaca gorges. As we came off the trail, our car was parked next to the only one in the lot surrounded by a bunch of teenagers. They were drinking, showing off their underwear hanging out of their jeans, and arguing about who was going to drive. I decided to make good use of everyone’s time.
I loaded my kids and dog into our car and then grabbed my registration and proof of insurance from the glove box. I flashed it at the teenagers from a distance as I spoke really loudly.
“New York State Police. I need to see some identification.”
They looked terrified, which is remarkable considering I was wearing Lululemon from head to toe. All of the sudden they went from acting like little shits to picking up their empty beer cans and being really polite.
I looked directly at the wise guy behind the wheel, wearing his baseball cap sideways.
“Tell you what, if you can blow under a .08, I’ll forgive the fact that you’re a minor.”
He was mumbling and we both knew he wouldn’t be able to pull that off. Thankfully the girl who had been bouncing around on his lap looked like she was sober, even if she was going to faint.
“Since I am off duty and have my kids with me, I will let you go if one of you can safely drive you all away from here. Otherwise, I’m going to have to call this in.”
Do cops have iPhones?
After pretending to search my vehicle, I told them I didn't have a breathalyzer, and that all I was really concerned about was their, and everyone else on the road's, safety. They seemed to regain color in their faces when they realized I was leaving. I have no idea if I helped or not, but I saluted them as I drove off.
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