No she doesn't

After erratically driving a few blocks, the booze finally catches up with Melissa. She burps like a moose, rolls her eyes and passes out with her stiletto-heeled shoe still on the gas pedal. When she wakes up a few minutes later with her head on the deflated airbag, her car is crumpled around a lamp post. Moaning, she opens the door and exits the car, scanning the deserted street for a sign of life. But there is none.