Sitting in a satisfied stupor, Paul Florace scanned his surroundings and slowly assessed his situation. In front of him was a full shot of whiskey with a 90-proof kick. Next to that was a 16-ounce glass mug with a stout handle that held his favorite beer: Miller Lite with a 9-proof boot. The heavy glass with the light beer was the best of both worlds as the skinny beer reduced the size of his beer belly and provided for him a weapon in case the shit hit the fan. Paul glanced at the tavern’s clock which had a 15-minute lead into the future and now showed 1:45AM. Doing the math in his head several times he calculated the itinerary of his departure. In real time it was 1:30AM, he was 20 minutes away from home by car, and he had 10 minutes to finish both drinks, he thinks. With the passing of the 28th Amendment, Paul was given a one-hour window (1-2AM) to get home legally in his vehicle. Piece of cake. Finishing both off in 9 minutes, Paul was up and staggering off to his ride in the parking lot of Tiny’s Tap. While fumbling for his keys, he noticed the black and white squad car across the street watching him. Paul couldn’t resist. He grabbed his junk and did a drunken gyrating movement, trying to emulate M.C. Hammer’s version of the song and dance: CAN’T TOUCH THIS. The patrol car drove away. Paul headed the dented car towards home. Ten minutes into the well-rehearsed ride, he came up to a red light with another car waiting there. Paul looked over and saw the driver of that vehicle was fast asleep at the wheel. Mr. Florace, out of respect, honked his horn repeatedly but got no response from the passed-out occupant. Paul did get a glaring stare from the police officers sitting in another squad car across the street, waiting. After 2 minutes of relentless honking, he called it quits. Paul rounded the corner and approached his driveway. It was blocked by a squad car with the lights on. MR. FLORACE, IT’S 2:01AM! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR DUI! 

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