As most of you are probably aware, there is a device that is sometimes installed in cars at the behest of our judicial system. This device comes into play after some incidents of someone driving while under the influence. Its purpose is simple… to prevent said someone(s) from operating their car if they are intoxicated. A relatively simple thing; the owner of the vehicle must blow into an apparatus that measures their BAC (blood alcohol content), and if the result is over a preset limit… the car won’t start.
I think this should become standard on phones.
(…)
Do I look like I’m kidding?
Drunk texting, drunk dialing, drunk chatting… Jesus, the amount of morning-after, “Oh, my fucking god!” moments we could save ourselves boggles the mind. Or how about removing not just one’s foot, but probably an entire LEG from one’s mouth because random, likely offensive, completely taken-over-by-aliens shit came pouring out after one had befriended a very agreeable bottle of vodka. Thanks, vodka!
Even better? The bright idea to call or text an ex. Because that ALWAYS goes well. It’ll end, usually, in one of two ways… a hissing, snarling attempt to verbally eviscerate each other, or waking up naked and your panties hanging from the ceiling fan, his bare ass staring you in the face. ‘Cause, you know… “I’ll leave the door open!”
Or God forbid you have a case of the lonelies… your drunk ass may find yourself sharing your number with someone you never would while sober, and then redefining embarrassment as you pour out your life’s story (copious weeping optional, but likely) to some poor schmuck who was only hoping to get laid. Not tonight, buddy! This also can happen with friends… assuming they haven’t learned not to take your calls after 5:00.
So, it makes perfect sense. Attach said device and you are prevented from worlds of inebriated disaster. In a perfect world, if I were Empress of All I Survey…
Those little bastards would be on every phone. Maybe TWICE.
You’d all thank me later.
-The Girl in the Woman