I’m fine to drive home, I’m sure of it.
Mostly sure of it.
I mean, I’ve had a few, but that last round of jagerbombs hasn’t kicked in yet, and anyway I only live a few blocks from here, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.
I’m already driving, so it’s too late to change my decision anyway.
It’s late, dark, and yeah, I’m kind of nodding, but I’m fine. I’ve driven this route a thousand times.
I just gotta keep my hands on the wheel, my eyes on the road, and hope nobody jumps out in front of SHIT!!!
Of course I’m not driving home. Who do you think I am?
I’m in no shape to, I’ve been drinking for four hours and I can barely focus my eyes.
I’m a responsible adult, and I frankly take offence at the implication that I’d even consider driving in my current state.
And anyway, I only live a few blocks from here.
Hopefully the night air will sober me up a little. I’m less steady on my feet than I thought I’d be.
Still, I can make it home.
Wait, a car’s coming.
Screw it, he’ll stop to let me pass…