This little rant is for my behalf, as well as the edification of the few that may glean something from it. Yeah, it’s something akin to beating a dead horse, but I don’t care. My organization has had numerous DUIs in the past few weeks (at least 4, from last I heard). But I digress . . .
Dear Human Cruise Missile,
I understand that you may be drinking as you read this, so I will keep it short and to the point.
1. Don’t drink and drive. Yes, you heard me. Gimme your keys. Now. I’m sick and tired of having to hear time and time again how someone fucked up, and damn near got into an accident. Well, guess what, it finally happened. Maybe you wouldn’t have hit that car and sent that little girl to the hospital, if her mother didn’t pull out in front of you. Maybe you would have made it home that night. It’s a crap shoot, kid, and sooner or later, yer gonna roll a seven. You have lost the priviledge of driving downtown for three months. You have lost the priviledge of driving on base for the next calendar year. What’s worse, you put a little girl in the hospital.
2. Find a fuckin’ ride. There’s plenty of cabs in this town, many of which can be had for less than a round of beers. Put a fuckin’ $20 in your sock and not in your wallet, so you have a little something to get home with. I’m sure that even scumbags such as yourself can find a ride with someone sober. And don’t fuckin’ get into the car with the buddy you just tossed back tequila shots with. Keep the casualties down: two dead kids ain’t better than one.
3. Think about what the fuck yer doing before you go out. Yes. Arrange for a DD. Figure out where you’re going, and how yer getting there. Slow down before you get yourself hammered and screwed. If you can’t get back with a friend, can you walk?
4. Call ME!. Yeah, because you fucked up, the squadron now has to keep one person on call each week to give you an option. If all else fails, call the office and someone will call me to give you a free, safe, confidential ride home. Don’t be a fuckin’ hero, and don’t be mother fuckin’ John Wayne. Just pick up the cellphone, say “Hey, can ya pick me up?”, and I’ll be there. Odds are, if it’s a happening party, I’d like to be there anyway.
Now, I’m not perfect. Have I done it before? Yes. But when my bud got a DUI, that opened my fuckin’ eyes. You’ve done it in the past? Fine. CUT THIS SHIT OUT, NOW!. You turn yourself into an unguided cruise missile every time you get behind the wheel in your condition, and I fully support what the boss is doing to you morons. Maybe the jail time option is a viable choice?
But a positive note: Should you splatter your guts all over the highway, rest assured I will come to scrape you up. However, I will put you back together and bring you back to life, just to beat the crap out of you.
Goddammit, I’m sick of you morons. I know I ain’t gonna convert you all by the millions, but sweet Jesus, maybe the thought of my boot up your ass will keep one of you from mowing down a family.
If you’ve been drinking, don’t drive. Just cut that shit out.
The little girl is fine, for the record.