Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Avoiding the Dreaded DUI or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Van.

So, It's Friday night and you've hit the town something fierce.  Assuming you're not a total vagina, you had big plans for the evening and you carried them out like a champ.  But as the final events of the night draw to a close, you run into a small snag.  After hitting every happening club in town, and exhausting all the bar-skank possibilities one can without crossing state lines, you're now in dire need of a place to crash for the night.  You sit in some random apartment watching the kickass after after-party you just dominated die down.  You consider your options carefully.

Ordinarily, you'd shack up at a friend's place, but apparently that's a big no can do this evening.  Maybe all your friends are trying to get lucky, or more likely, maybe you're just alpha as fuck and have no friends.  Don't worry, friends are for fags anyway.  Realizing you're not going to be getting home tonight, you try to secure a spot in a puke free corner of the apartment to bed down for a couple hours.  But before you can even roll up your sweatshirt to make a small pillow, one of the tenants gets all up in your grill.  He doesn't know you, and the douche wants you out of his place.  Your situation is turning increasingly serious, and your thoughts desperate.  Your evening is quickly turning into the movie After Hours, and that scares the shit out of you.
Where are you going to sleep for the night?  Can you sleep at a bus station?  Do people actually do that? No, they don't.  Bums rape people who sleep at bus stations.  Maybe you should try to walk home.  It's a long way, but you could make it in a few hours.  Do people actually do that?  No, they don't.  Drifters rape people who try to walk home.
Now, I've been in your position a dozen times before.  And yes, I have attempted to walk home at least once and dealt with the ramifications of making that decision.  But I've found a solution, and my God what a glorious solution it is.  The answer is simple, just sleep in your car.  Do you have a van?  Then get one, it makes things even easier.  Just put the seats down, throw a mattress in back, and you're good to go.  When I roll out to get my drink on, I ride dirty in a 1999 Dodge Grand Caravan.  It's gold, motherfucker.

See now, instead of trying to find a random place to visit the sandman, or trying to drive home when you know your drunk ass shouldn't be driving, you've got a mobile bedroom sitting right out front.  But hey, it gets even better.  Say you've met a nice upstanding young female, and you'd like to find a location for the two of you to sin in creative and unsanitary ways.  Well hey, now you've got it parked just a stone's throw away!   Be careful though, introducing the idea of fornicating in the back of a motor vehicle can quickly start to sound creepy.  You're going to need to bring the idea up slowly, and carefully.  At no point should you jokingly refer to your van as a "Rape Van."  In fact, don't even use the word rape or van in the same sentence.  Seriously, trust me on this one.