It was Saturday night and I, like a typical college student, had exciting plans.
My Saturdays are usually spent cooking delicious meals with friends, slaving over organic chemistry problems, or cuddling with my bf Netflix. But this night, I had something special planned: driving through a sobriety checkpoint!
If you actually read the school-wide email that conveniently told every TU student exactly when and where they shouldn’t drive drunk on Saturday, August 29, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I had never been through a sobriety checkpoint nor even seen one. I had, however, heard tales of the mysterious sobriety checkpoints that pop up out of nowhere and are the reason your cousin Hector no longer has a driver’s license and has to bum rides off of you.
And so, on that beautiful Saturday night I decided I was going to track down a sobriety checkpoint…and drive through it!
Naturally one of my friends thought this was a thrilling idea and agreed to accompany me on my quest. (Said friend’s name has been changed to Saul, so people don’t read this article and draw the conclusion that he is the lamest person ever).
The clock struck midnight. My friend drove to my apartment, and honked three times. I ran down the stairs, barely containing my excitement. “Do you have your license and registration?” I asked, thinking about that one line cops always ask in movies. He did indeed have the requisite paperwork.
We were off! Into the night we went, eyes peeled for a sobriety checkpoint. We had no idea what such a thing would look like, but figured a checkpoint was like a chupacabra–we’d know it when we saw it.
Imagine our surprise when we reached the reported intersection, and drove straight through. No cops, no flashing lights, no barricades. Nothing. It was after midnight, prime sobriety checkpoint time.
Maybe we missed it? We turned around and proceeded through the intersection again, driving several blocks past. Then we did a loop around the school, ducked under the freeway, drove in a circle. And saw nothing.
Our titillation fading by this point, we began to wonder if the advertised sobriety checkpoint did, in fact, exist. Had the university lied to us? Had TU purposefully got our hopes up, only to crush them?
After a few more loops, we finally admitted it. We had been conned. There was no sobriety checkpoint, just like there was no tooth fairy and no way to get out of college debt-free.
I thanked my friend for accompanying me on this failed quest, trudged up the stairs and collapsed onto my bed.
Alas, my dreams of experiencing the glory of a sobriety checkpoint would remained unfulfilled. I can only imagine what might have been.
Note: At the time of publication, rumors had surfaced that the elusive sobriety checkpoint was spotted last Saturday on Harvard.