The Drunk Driver

You give yourself an imposition as you turn tail towards the flashing blue lights; if the cop doesn't like you, you're gonna let him beat the memory of this moment out of you. You stop a couple feet away and gawk at the man, who is wearing a simple combo of unwashed jeans and a white T-shirt, while you simultaneously keep one eye on the cop, who is sitting in his car waiting for a response on his radio.

You shake in your boots as you pass the police man, tip toeing towards the dented silver sedan. The drunk driver looks up at you and gives a big toothy grin. He raises an arm to your shoulder, but backs down when he begins to fall forward, settling back into his previous position.

"H-hey man," he says to you with a slurred vocabulary, "Help-*hic* help a guy out?"

You glance back at the police man, whom you can see through the back window of his squad car, tapping his hand against the dashboard. The drunk driver pats you on your back, simultaneously using you for support, to which you turn back to face the man.

"I could just...get in the car, and drive aw-aw-away. I'll do it!" he says, his voice turning sharp.

You gently push the man off of you, settling him back against the hood of his car. You feel a bit bad for the man, as he's obviously more drunk than you realized. Maybe you could help out somehow?