That time Sex led to a Sobriety test

He picked one of my favorite bars.

I love when men are direct and decisive and don't suggest a bar where I'm apprehensive about using the toilet. 

One night stands should be classy.

Or meaningful lasting relationships.

Whatever. 

But always class.

He wore glasses and taught English at a university so I named him Professor in my head before I'd finished my first sazerac.

Good dates are the reason I love Tinder.

At its best you get to stare into the eyes of some dashing stranger who may or may not become an integral part of your life. 

That's terribly exciting. 

And when it's not exciting it's entertaining as fuck and that makes Tinder pretty fabulous too.

Seriously if they had a spokeswoman for Tinder it should be me. 

Spokesman?

Spokesperson?

Spokesslut?

I spoke of my plans for Ireland and he'd spent a great deal of time there. 

And wasn't that just a lovely coincidence except I don't remember the name of the city he said played the best live music which is fine because I believe in making your own adventure but sometimes I wish you kept in contact with certain folks if only for the sole purpose of asking, Hey what was that thing you told me that time?

I think he may have even been wearing a clauddagh ring but I didn't get a closer look at it because when someone's that handsome and wearing glasses the only place I want to be looking is in their eyes. 

He ordered the same drink I had which always amuses me. 

When a man mirrors his drinking to mine it's like the equivalent of standing and then kneeling slowly with his head bowed like I was the Queen of Portlandia.

It's the modern tipping of the hat and holding open the door but in an aggressive way that whispers I want to be what she puts in her body.

So it didn't take an obscene amount of coaxing for me to want to go home with him.

And it didn't take long for the Professor to assert his lesson for the night.

Get on your knees, he instructed, and to my surprise my shock at his direction was overshadowed by my urge to giggle.

That was so hot.

And after a time we lay there, he in his glasses, me growing sleepy.

And I thought I'd let the sleep come upon me and as I closed my eyes no more than a minute passed. 

My eyes shot open in the dark.

I'm gonna go, I whispered. 

And I'm not really sure what happened in those 45 seconds with my eyes closed but I suddenly did not want to be there.

So I left.

Content and sleepy. 

And apparently speeding.

Lights flashed in my rear view mirror and the word FUCK echoed in my brain.

I immediately reached for my "License and Registration" because maybe if I was an overachiever the cop would go easy on me.

I have this history of getting tickets for the most ridiculous shit.

Driving through a gas station parking lot. 

Not making a complete stop at a stop sign. 

I totally paused.

I once got a ticket for expired tags from a parking meter attendant. 

And we're not even gonna go into the number of parking tickets I've gotten. 

Don't worry, I paid them all, Mom.

So having this cop suddenly at my side at two in the morning made me begin to wonder what was so bad about staying at the Professors. 

I couldn't find my most current proof of insurance even though there were thirty older insurance cards in my glove box.

Shouldn't we rename that since no one actually keeps gloves in there?

And the cop said he was going to trust me on my insurance and a wave of relief washed over me. 

But I smell alcohol on your breath so I'm gonna need you to step out of the car and do a sobriety test. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk.

Um.

Yeah.

So.

I hadn't had any dinner that night.

I'd been so turned on I just drank my dinner. 

And it had been hours since I'd had a drop.

But apparently the debauchery on my breath was ripe.

The only things that had been in my mouth were Rye and Riley.

Well this is funny, I inadvertently started speaking as I got out of my car. 

What's funny? The cop asked. 

I left because I didn't wanna spend the night!

Was it a first date? The cop somehow knew. 

Yes!!

Oh, well you don't wanna spend the night on the first date, he advised. 

And I resisted the urge to ask if being on the side of the highway with him at two in the morning was a wiser choice. 

He gave me the test, which felt like the longest few minutes of my life. 

I thought about the fact that if I didn't have such intimacy issues I'd be snuggled up with the Professor instead of  shivering in the cold in the little lace dress I hadn't worn any underwear with. 

I thought about how much I'd drive by and laugh to myself if I saw me standing there and it was some other poor girl.

I wondered what happened when people got DUI's and if I was going to have to ride the bus like all the guys I knew who had homework at age 28.

Ok, the cop broke me from my reverie, I'm not gonna give you a DUI. Thank you for driving sober. 

Stunned and slightly overwhelmed I followed him silent to my car. 

Is it against the rules to hug a cop? 

Cuz I really wanted to hug him in the next moment. 

Just get home safe, he said, and make sure you get proof of your latest insurance because that can get you in a lot of trouble. 

I nodded slowly.

And then he left. 

That was it?

Had he forgotten my ticket?

I always get a ticket. 

I'd been going 70 in a 55.

I wasn't drunk but I was speeding. 

Wait. 

Seriously?

A good date and I escaped a felony?

This was the luckiest dress of my life!!!

And the moral of the story is:

Eat some fucking bread with your whiskey.