When slightly inebriated* it's a good idea not to drive your car. If you must drive your car after having two beers** it's a better idea not to breathe all over the clerk at the convenience store. When she comes down from the buzz your halitosis gave her, she'll call the po-po on your ass, cause she knows the people in this town and for the most part doesn't want them to die horribly because your dumb ass couldn't drive straight.
Then every nice officer in town will show up, because they're bored, have a nice chat with you, and give you some lovely new steel bracelets.
But not before you subject them to your distillery-breath wheezing "What for??" when they ask you to step outside for a moment of conversation.
Oh, and it's a better idea to tell them about the baggie of drugs you dropped behind the trash can right off, they get cranky when they have to get back out in the cold.
Just a thought.
*so drunk you can't see straight.
**and a fifth of whiskey... or maybe a sixth.
ETA: Rumor has it that this particular fine upstanding citizen happened to have broken the law in a spectacular enough manner to cause an unidentified law enforcement officer to come into the store and high five the clerk who made the call. Rumor has it that a large quantity of Meth was found in the vehicle he was driving. Rumor has it the clerk in question thinks that his getting caught with drugs by getting hammered and offending her delicate senses is funny as hell.
It's all rumor, you understand.
****Disclaimer**** Any information in this blog post may be obfuscated, bent, folded, spindled, stapled, and or otherwise manipulated. Or it may not. Or I might be a bright shiny bird flying off into the sunset. You don't know me.