Sober Drivers: Use ‘Em, Love ‘Em
There are a thousand different reasons to be happy for school to be back in session, but one of the best is that once again there are pledge sober drivers. No longer are taxis required to get you from A to what you assume is B when you wake up in the morning, unaware of your surroundings yet thankful that they aren’t filled with either rusted power tools that have been repurposed for rectal torture, fat chicks, or both. God help you if it’s both.
Not to get preachy, but drunk driving is one of the biggest mistakes you can make. It’s laughably stupid. Let’s even set aside the obvious physical dangers of it and realize that even a hundred-dollar cab ride is cheaper than what a DUI would cost you. Not to mention all the police bullshit you’ll have to put up with, like here in the state of Texas where on certain weekends it’s actually legal for them to draw your blood, against your will, if they so choose. I tend to avoid drunk driving situations, but if I ever found myself in one like that I’d be Randy Marsh-ing so hard.
It is especially stupid for Greeks to drive drunk with sober drivers back in season. Free rides! And they aren’t all mouthy and shady like taxi drivers. I have this interaction with a Middle Eastern cab driver at least four times a weekend on 6th Street.
Cab Driver: I’m sorry, my man, cash only.
Me: (*wasted drunk*) You’re in America now, you’re not piloting a rickshaw anymore, I can see your card machine, chief.
Cab Driver: No man, it’s broken man.
Me: Bullshit! Fuck you! I’m getting in.
(*cab speeds away*)
God what I’d give to have pledge rides again. Even sorority girls don’t have an excuse, locking down a ride back to campus isn’t exactly hard. It’s the one time I’ll allow being a huge cock tease. Safety first! Dignity second.
So in honor of the fact that pledge sober rides are back, and that you’re all making what I’m sure is the only responsible decision of your respective nights out, I’d like to share a few sober driving anecdotes from my college days.
Obviously my first experiences with pledge sober driving was as a pledge sober driver. Actives actually never gave me much shit while I was driving, which means I only got bitched out like five times a night. My greatest sober driving antagonist turned out to be the police. Ironically the only time I have ever been administered a full sobriety test in my entire life was as a pledge sober driver.
It was clear that when the officer approached the driver side window that he thought he had bagged himself a drunk driver. He had one of those shit-eating grins on his face that only police officers and well-hung anal porn stars get right before they go into their business. You know the look, it’s as if to say “I’m gonna fuck you in the ass so hard, know that it’s only my job though, but deep down I sort of hope you cry, just a little.”
I assured the officer that I was sober, because I was sober driving for my fraternity. The drunk actives in the back corroborated my story. The cop wasn’t having it. It took him all of a minute to ask me to “step out of the car.” I did, and once again assured him I was sober.
This particular incident actually happened near the end of my pledgeship, so at the time of the traffic stop it was December, and cold as shit, well below freezing. Since I knew I would be in a car all night I was only wearing a sweatshirt. After the cop asked me to step out of the car he had me stand there for about five minutes, or in other words until my testicles had completely ascended in order to cuddle with my kidneys for warmth, before he started the test.
Once he did I was shivering badly enough to fail walking in a straight line. However I aced the touch the nose portion of the test, as well as the eye test. For some reason this dipshit cop still thought he had me. He shot me that same “I’m about to fuck you in the ass” grin right before he put the breathalyzer in my mouth. He even asked “are you sure there isn’t anything you’d like to admit?” I just said no and blew into the stupid fucking thing, as at this point I had been standing outside in the freezing cold for about twenty minutes.
That was my blood alcohol level.
The cop was pissed, I assume at his own retardation, and wrote me a ticket for rolling the stop sign, which was debatable, by the way. When I got back into the car the actives, who weren’t allowed to get out even though the house was right there, gave me a few comforting words before reverting back to normal by telling me that I was a dumbass for getting pulled over and bitching me out for making them wait around for twenty minutes. Luckily by that point I was well aware that “it” (whatever “it” is) is always the pledge’s fault, and that sober driving is a thankless job, so I didn’t take it personally. Fuck that cop though.
It’s important for this semester’s crop of pledges to know that sober driving IS a thankless job. It’s also one of your most important functions. I seriously got more use out of sober rides than just about anything else pledges ever did, except maybe cleaning. Be prepared for the thanklessness of the job and take it in stride. In the grand scheme of pledgeship it’s one of the easiest things you’ll do anyway. So when a pledge gets all bitchy about sober driving of all things, it’s completely intolerable.
I’ll grant that the pledge whom I’m about to use as an example might have had a semi-legitimate complaint to make, at least if he weren’t a pledge. But regardless, when an active (me) is throwing up out of the window of your backseat, just let him be. Besides, I was throwing up OUT the window, not onto the floorboards. As far as I’m concerned I was being Goddamned considerate. However the pledge in question, “Sam,” somehow wasn’t capable of being cool about it.
While I was heaving out the window, only half paying attention to whether or not there was something approaching that could have decapitated me, my pledge brother in the front seat was laughing hysterically. Sam meanwhile, was losing his shit.
Sam: Hey man! Hey man! WHAT THE FUCK MAN!
Pledge Brother: Sam shut the fuck up and drive.
Me: BLUUUAAAHHHHHHH (*coughs*) Shut the fuck up Sam. (*dry heaves*) BLUUUAAHHHHH
Sam: Is it getting on my car!? NOT COOL!
Pledge Brother: Who gives a shit?
Sam was not a good pledge. After I got back to the house I chugged some water and rallied. Then my pledge brother and I discussed our general
dislike fucking hatred for Sam. We decided to fuck with him. Well, decided to fuck with him again. We actually fucked with him pretty routinely, it was great.
Sam just so happened to have a very imitable, raspy voice. Both my pledge brother and I did an excellent impression of him, so much so that people said we sounded exactly like him. We were both hanging out near the fraternity house phone when it started to ring. I answered. On the other end was a senior looking for the sober driver, who apparently wasn’t answering his cell. Like I said, shitty pledge.
Senior: Hey is Sam around? I need a ride from Bearfield.
Me: Yeah, uh, hang on just a second.
(*stands there for a moment*)
Me: (*as Sam*) Hey man, what’s going on?
Senior: Sam you need to come to Bearfield and pick me up.
Me: (*as Sam*) Nah man, can’t do that.
Senior: Excuse me?
Me: (*as Sam*) Can’t pick you up dude.
Senior: Why the fuck not?
Me: (*as Sam*) Because you’re pretty much the biggest fag ever.
(*Pledge Brother begs for the phone, I hand it to him*)
Pledge Brother: (*as Sam*) Yeah dude, you suck so much cock. I fuckin’ have no respect for you. Go chug jizz, faggot.
Senior: I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU.
Pledge Brother: (*as Sam*) Have fun walkin’ home, bitch.
After about fifteen minutes of laughing hysterically, we noticed that Sam had showed up to the house, apparently because there was a lull in sober ride requests at that moment. We informed Sam that he needed to stay by the house phone in case anyone called it for a ride, so he did.
Another five minutes passed before the senior showed up to the house in a taxi. My pledge brother and I had set up camp in view of the phone, ready to watch whatever was about to unfold. No words can describe how glorious/hilarious/bewildering the next twenty minutes were. I’ve never seen anyone look so confused and terrified as Sam did at that moment. His face looked like he had to solve the world’s hardest calculus equation in order to save his family from being murdered. It was…it was just the best thing ever. Sam dropped shortly after.
I’ve gone off on my fair share of sober drivers as well. Sometimes they’re just so damn dumb and you’re so damn drunk that it’s unavoidable. Especially when a pledge at the University of Missouri, who has been enrolled in school for several months and is already thirty minutes late to pick you up, has to ask where exactly the landmark bar Harpo’s is located. The only thing I remember screaming, as in “cause passersby to stare” screaming, at him was “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE HARPO’S IS! IT’S FUCKING HARPO’S!”
The entire ride home was a profanity laden tirade on topics ranging from his probable Down Syndrome misdiagnosis, his likely impotence, his poor chances of being initiated, his stupid fucking face, the urgency of a McDonald’s trip, and then more about his stupid fucking face and how it was probably related to his misdiagnosed Down Syndrome. It was probably the meanest I have ever been to a pledge (or human being) who hadn’t been ordered by an alum who worked for Homeland Security to roll an M-18 smoke grenade into my bedroom. It’s a testament to that sober driver that he didn’t drop. Eventually he was initiated and now he’s one of my favorite fraternity brothers.
So if you’re an active, enjoy your sober rides. They’re a damn gift from God. It is one of the greatly underrated perks of being in a fraternity. If you’re a sober driver know that you’re performing an important duty, one that you will eventually reap the benefits of, ten times over.
Sober drivers: Use ‘em, love ‘em.
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