12 February 2010

Breaking down your preconceived notions. Part 2 of MANY

OK, so last week I came out and told you about getting a DUI, now it's time to get down to brass tax.


Today we're going to cover the Arrest  (or at least what I can remember of the arrest):

After crashing my car into a collapsible road construction sign (thus totally my car), I sat in my car for a while, pondering what to do.  Until I saw flashing lights, a medic came up to me asking me if I was OK (I apparently passed out for a few minutes in the interim).  I told him I was uninjured and that I didn't need medical attention.  Next came the police officer, who asked for my license, which I tendered without hesitation.  He asked the usual battery of questions:
"Have you been drinking?"
"How much did you drink?"
"When did you have your last drink?"
To which I responded honestly:
"Yes"
"5 beers"
"an hour or so ago"
(I may or may not have slipped in some Arabic here...since I was totally drunk at the time, and usually that when my language skills start coming out)

Then he asked another question, which I answered unusually:
"Sir, would you consent to a field sobriety test?"

my answer might shock you:

"No, just go ahead and arrest me now"

I cannot tell you exactly what was going through my head at the time, but I knew I had been caught red-handed and didn't really want to fuck around with some stupid field sobriety test I knew I would fail. (Later I discovered that even if you pass the field sobriety test, the officer could still arrest you under suspicion of DUI, so either way I was fucked)

The officer then placed the cuffs on me and patted me down, asking if I carried any weapons (I wasn't).  Then he proceeded to check my vehicle for any open containers (There were none in my vehicle).

This is where things start to get fuzzy, he puts me in the back of his squad car, and we head down to the station for processing.

The processing goes without incident (paperwork, finger prints, I cannot remember if I had to take a mug shot or not).

(NO, I was not read my Miranda Rights, since I was not going to be interrogated)

I was asked to consent to a Breathalyzer test, after reading the consent paper work over and over (taking about half an hour to an hour) I finally consented.

I had to blow twice (so they can get an average of your BAC), my average 0.15 BAC (almost twice the legal limit[which is  total bullshit])

The officer then handed me a piece of paper which would act as my license, until I decided whether to submit to having a breathalyzer installed in my car or opt for an administrative hearing with the MVA (which would have ended with me having the breathalyzer installed in my car).

After signing the required paperwork, I was released on my own recognizance (ROR), since I have deep roots in the community (meaning I live with my parents and have a Gov't job, I wasn't going anywhere).  Before I left I had to see the magistrate (I don't know what they are actually called, but these are the people who take your filled out paperwork and schedule your court date).  Then I hopped in a cab and headed home.

My troubles had only just begun...

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