With nearly all of my requirements done for my DUI, the only things I have left are having an ignition interlock device (IID) in my car (less than 50 days to go) and being on probation (less than 3 years to go). The IID requirement has been by far the biggest pain. I’m convinced the main purpose of the device is to induce stress for the driver.
The device’s unpredictability is the worse aspect of it. After blowing into the device successfully, you have two minutes to start the car. I have had it happen a few times where I have blown into the device, realized I forgot something, ran out the car to get it in under two minutes and came back in time to start the car. Today, that exact scenario happened. I got back to my car with five seconds left on the countdown. However, after I started the car, the device beeped longer than usual and displayed BLOW. So, I blew into the device again and passed. Then, immediately after that, the device went into a rolling retest and displayed BLOW with the six-minute countdown customary with a retest. So, before I even started driving my car, I had to pass three tests.
Next time I forget something, I’ll just disconnect the device and start over. Or maybe I’ll decide I didn’t need to go anywhere. That’s happened. I don’t want to deal with the device and just stay home. I don’t always have that choice, of course.
I’m sure that Smart Start gets its share of hate from people who don’t want to have an IID in their car. I’m sure some of the hate is warranted, some of it isn’t. I’m just hoping to walk away from this experience never having to deal with IIDs ever again.
To complete the Hospital and Morgue (HAM) Program, I had to write a 500-word reflective essay describing my experience. Here it is:
Hospital and Morgue (HAM) Program Essay
On April 11th and April 18th, 2015, I attended the two-part HAM Program as part of my sentence for DUI conviction. I had not heard of the program before and I wasn’t sure what to expect. At the very least, I hoped that I would learn valuable information from both sessions.
I attended the hospital portion first at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. It was an eight-hour session that took place entirely in a classroom, but it didn’t feel like a class. The instructor made every effort to be interactive and engage with the students. He spent the session asking more questions of us than just lecturing to us.
The instructor focused mainly on making healthy lifestyle choices and what tools we could use to make those decisions. I was surprised that he did not focus more specifically on alcohol and DUI. I thought that this was a good approach, since alcohol use and DUI may be a symptom of a larger problem in one’s life. Also, he acknowledged that many of us have already attended or are attending an alcohol education program and did not want to repeat too much information that we may already have heard.
For a few exercises, we broke into small groups and shared our experiences with the group. I was in a group with two other people. I felt that we had similar experiences and could relate to each other. Overall, it felt like a supportive environment and I was glad that people were open about their experiences.
The following week, I attended the morgue portion of the program at the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner. I have never been near dead bodies before. I have never even attended a funeral before. I also have seen very few graphic photos of death. Needless to say, I have very little experience with death.
The session lasted about three and a half hours, but it was packed with a lot of information. After a short introduction, we were taken on a tour of the facility. I was surprised at how close we were allowed to be with the bodies and equipment of the facility. It makes a huge difference to be able to see these things in person instead of just in pictures or video. The smell of the facility made the biggest impression on me. It was definitely the smell of death.
After viewing autopsies and a dead body being photographed for evidence, I felt like the fragility of human life became clearer to me. It felt like a privilege to be able to see this side of death investigation. It revealed a side of humanity that I found unsettling at times.
The session concluded with a slideshow presentation of photos from accident sites. Some of the photos, along with the descriptions of what happened in these accidents, have made lasting impressions in my mind. It’s a reality that Hollywood could never accurately portray. The accidents seemed messy, tragic, and preventable.
In conclusion, I was impressed with the quality of the program and feel that I learned a lot. I feel like I was lucky that I was not hurt during my DUI and I didn’t hurt anyone else. I’ve been given a second chance at life and will definitely never drink and drive again.
I got this reminder sticker postcard in the mail three weeks before my visit. I got the pen at the end of my visit.I attended the morgue portion of the Hospital and Morgue (HAM) Program yesterday. The visit took place at the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner (MEC) from 8:30am to 12pm.
I pulled up to the MEC building in my car at about 8:10am. I could already see about a dozen people gathered in front of the building. There were no parking instructions with the appointment information. There were a few visitor parking spots directly in front of the building, but they were already taken. There was a small parking lot near the grounds entrance but it was reserved for MEC staff. I pulled in there, but after looking at the different signs, I decided not to chance parking there. I was able to find free street parking directly across the street. (Later, the instructor told us that it would be okay to park in the lot, especially on a Saturday.)
At about 8:25am, a woman came out of the building and told us to form two lines. There were about 25 of us in attendance, with only two people under 21. We proceeded to a classroom with a screen and projector. While the woman checked us in individually and collected the $80 fee, the instructor put an image on the screen of a man undergoing an autopsy. His chest and stomach were cut open and skin, flesh, and yellowish fat were hanging over his sides. (The yellow color stuck out the most to me.) Part of his chest was laying on top of his face. His organs were being removed by the MEC staff person in the photo. This photo was kept on the screen for several minutes.
After the instructor explained how the day would be structured and we watched several videos (mainly videos made by the Australian Transport Accident Commission), we were given shoe covers, gloves, and face masks. In a single-file line, we were led downstairs to the crypt.
Before entering the crypt, we gathered in the loading room where bodies first arrive from the outside world. In this room, through my face mask, I could already smell death. Honestly, it smelled a bit like how some Chinese or Vietnamese supermarkets smell in their meat section, though stronger. I’m sure the smell is much stronger without a face mask.
The crypt was kept at 28 degrees Fahrenheit with a wind chill. After sitting in air-conditioning all day the previous week at the hospital visit, I came prepared for a cold environment. I wore a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, though I didn’t expect the freezing temperature of the crypt. Other attendees weren’t so prepared as they were wearing only t-shirts.
Welcome to Costco. The bodies I saw weren’t this well covered up. Photo Credit: Andres Cediel for FRONTLINEThe crypt is the only one in LA County and it’s the largest in the country. It holds 560 bodies and during my visit it was about 60% full. The bodies were stacked neatly on metal trays in bunks side-by-side. The crypt is like a large warehouse with concrete flooring and bright fluorescent lighting. The instructor referred to the room as “Costco.” (I’ll never look at Costco and their stacks of goods on trays the same again.)
I had never seen a dead body up close before. I’ve never been to a funeral. The closest I’ve been to a dead body was seeing my neighbor lying facedown on the lawn outside of my bedroom window, and only after the fire department arrived.
Some bodies had clear plastic sheets draped over them. Others were completely wrapped in plastic bags, particularly the ones that were more decomposed. Some were wrapped in white sheets. One of the badly decomposed bodies had a small puddle of yellow liquid on the floor near it. Other than that, the room seemed very clean.
Before leaving the crypt, the instructor opened a steel sliding door to the autopsy room. Three autopsies were occurring. We all peeked into the room, three at a time, and after 14 minutes in the crypt, we went back outside to the loading room.
We went down the hallway to get another view of the autopsy room. There was a woman who looked very similar to the man in the photo shown on the projector at the beginning of the day. Instead of a photo, she was several feet from us in the flesh. Her chest and stomach were cut open and exposed. We were told that she had heroin in her system and she was found with a needle in her arm. One of the technicians spoke to us and said he came out of retirement to work for the MEC because he needed a job. He told us to stay in school and get a education.
As we continued down the hallway, we passed a hollowed-out body on a cart that had been recently exhumed. The body had already been buried by the family, but the MEC needed to examine the body for homicide.
The X-ray room was closed, but there was a screen that showed the X-ray that had just been taken. It showed a bullet in the body that was currently being examined. At the end of the hallway, we gathered in a room where a body was being photographed. The bodies are photographed in the loading room outside the crypt when they first arrive, and again in this room. There was a body of a 27-year-old Latino male with a couple of bullet holes in his chest. There was gash on the back of his head that was dripping blood. We were told that he was out drinking the night before with a friend and during an argument, the friend killed him.
That was the end of the tour. We were there for about an hour. Before we went back upstairs, the instructor told us to remove the shoe covers, gloves, and face mask in that order. As I bent down to take off my shoe covers, I noticed some dried blood that had gotten on them.
Back in the classroom, the instructor took a step back and introduced himself. He was previously a police officer with the LAPD but has been with the MEC for 14 years. He was informal and conversational, and not shy about throwing in swear words here and there. He needed to show us a PowerPoint presentation, but couldn’t get the projector to work, so instead he just talked and answered questions.
He asked us if we had read our probation paperwork. He claimed that being on probation means that we can’t be in the presence of alcohol or be with anyone who has been drinking. (I’m a bit dubious of this claim, but I’ll definitely ask my lawyer about it. My probation paperwork has this line but it is not checked: “Do not use or possess any alcoholic beverage and stay out of bars and liquor stores.”) This caused a slight uproar among the group, but ultimately the instructor said that we just need to try our best to stay out of trouble because we never know if a bad neighbor or “dickhead” cop will be out to get us. (Could he be speaking from experience?)
With the projector working, the instructor showed us the presentation, which included many photos of accident sites and dismembered bodies. Those were some of the goriest photos I’ve ever seen in my life.
A few minutes before noon, the instructor wrapped things up. He asked, “Who here would recommend this program?” Nearly everyone raised his or her hand.
The instructor called my name and I went up to get my paperwork from him. He asked me, “So what’d you do? What was your BAC?”
“0.19%,” I said.
“0.2% can kill you, you know.”
“I know now, thank you.” I took my paperwork and left.
This experience was probably the strangest and most surreal that I’ve ever been through. I’m not entirely sure what I think of it just yet. It felt like a privilege to be able to experience it, but at the same time if I had the choice I wouldn’t have gone through it. I don’t know if I’m “scared straight”, but there are some images from the day that I haven’t been able to shake off.
To complete the program, I also have to write a 500-word essay about my experience with the HAM Program. I could pull together some of what I’ve already written in my blog posts, but since it’s something that will sit in my legal file, I’ll probably write something a bit more mundane.
I attended the hospital portion of the Hospital and Morgue (HAM) Program yesterday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. I didn’t really know what to expect. Since it seems like this program was set up primarily for younger DUI offenders, I was concerned that it would be a “Scared Straight” type of program.
I arrived at the hospital at 7:30am for registration, although the program begins at 8am. It lasts until 5pm, including a one-hour lunch and two 10-minute breaks. There were about a dozen people in line for registration when I got there, but it wasn’t a long wait. They took my court paperwork and $120 fee, and handed me a 20-page booklet to use during the entire day.
The day took place entirely in a conference room. We watched several short videos, but the bulk of the day was lectures by an instructor (who tried to eek out as much group participation as he could) and a few small group discussions with three to four people. There were only about 30 people in attendance, most of whom were much older than 21 years old, so this was not a youthful group. That might be the reason why, surprisingly, we focused very little on alcohol and DUI specifically. Instead, the program took more of a big picture, holistic healthy lifestyle choices approach. We even had to draw a big picture.
How would you like you Life to look in 1 to 3 years? I just ended up drawing my version of LA.At the end of the day, they gave our court paperwork back with certificates of completion. Although they said that they would look at our 20-page booklets to make sure that we had been participating throughout the day, they didn’t.
I’ve been wanting to keep track of the number of days I’ve been sober. I wanted to put a counter widget in the sidebar of this blog, but there is only a countdown widget available. It’s not a big deal. I’ve already decided that I’m going to stay sober for at least one year, but I just wanted to have a number of days ready if I was curious.
I haven’t been out to Happy Hour with my co-workers since that fateful night. I went to the company holiday party in January, and tonight I went to a dinner to celebrate a co-worker’s 10-year anniversary with the company. Both times my bosses (who know about my DUI) have tried to implement a designated driver/Uber policy, but not too forcefully. They aren’t going to tell anyone that it’s because I got a DUI that they’re trying to roll out the policy.
However, unless the person has a DUI, I don’t see he or she being on board. When trying to organize Uber rides for the dinner tonight, some co-workers were rumbling, Why are we using Uber? I’m just going to drive. It doesn’t make sense because I can just go home after the restaurant. This isn’t the kind of company where our bosses will make people do something or else.
No Uber cars were used to get to the restaurant, but at the very least people carpooled there. I went in a car with someone who was planning to head home after the restaurant, so I knew I would take an Uber car back to the office. She didn’t drink much alcohol during the dinner. I only saw her take a few sips of Japanese sake. The only people who had no alcohol were the co-worker we were celebrating and me. As people offered me drinks, I just politely declined. No big deal.
I see… DUIs.
I have a joke where I say “I see DUIs” in the same tone as the boy in The Sixth Sense who says, “I see dead people.” I see DUIs everywhere. For the co-worker who had the few sips of sake, I think she would barely register a reading on a breathalyzer. The co-worker sitting across from me had maybe three beers and some sake. He didn’t seem drunk and we were at the restaurant for more than 2 hours. I’d still give him a BAC of 0.04% to 0.06%, though. Nearly everyone else was drinking a lot. I’m sure some of them would blow 0.20% and higher.
The funny thing is, even if my bosses push people to take Uber to the restaurant, what happens when we get back to the office? How did we get to work in the first place? I took an Uber back to the office with three co-workers. They were all very wasted. Even the guy who seemed the least wasted, and I think that’s only because he already has a somewhat calm demeanor, told me he was pretty sure he drank six bottles of sake. I’m pretty sure he drank that much. I was sitting next to him during dinner. He walked to the office though, so that answered, “How did he get to work?” But, of the two other guys, one drove up from San Diego just for the dinner. (He works for the company remotely.) Was he planning to drive home tonight? The third guy bragged about having gone drinking until 4am last night. I don’t know how he got to work.
Sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if I didn’t get a DUI. Would I have been drinking tonight? How much would I have drank? The main reason why my co-workers drank so much was because our bosses were willing to pay for it all. Unless they already have a DUI, I don’t think most people believe they will get one. They may be right. It’s highly possible that none of my co-workers will be getting DUIs tonight.
I don’t feel willing to tell my co-workers about my DUI. My bosses know and that’s enough. Part of the reason is because I’m not sure the message would get through to them. The other part is, I don’t think I care enough about my co-workers to share my story with them. What if I save someone’s life by telling my story? I don’t know if I believe that. The impression I have after 152 days of experience is that it’s only possible to preach to the converted.
I had the Uber driver drop me off at the office, but the guys stayed in the car because they wanted to go out for more drinks. I told the driver to keep the same trip running and to take them wherever they wanted to go. Since the trip was on my account, I got the receipt when it ended. I could see that they were dropped off a few blocks from the bar I was drinking at the night I got my DUI.
I’ve had an ignition interlock device (IID) in my car for almost two months now. Although I no longer have the troubles that I had with the device from my first two weeks, I still have fantasies about tossing the device out the window and running it over. Then, I remember that I can’t start my car without it. (D’oh!)
I use my car for at least 14 trips a week. No trip is short enough that I can get away without a rolling retest, so that’s at least 28 times that I have to blow into the device. Although every now and then I blow into the device correctly the first time, most of the time I still don’t. But, let’s say I get the start-up every time and need two times for the retest. That’s at least 42 times I blow into the device every week.
That’s a lot of drug tests.
Maybe it’s hyperbolic to call blowing into the device a drug test, but I don’t think so. I don’t see how it’s any different from an employer who requires drug testing as part of the job, and will fire you if you don’t submit to the testing. However, I don’t know of any employer that requires 42 drug tests a week from an employee.
I could drive fewer times, but as long as I live where I live and work where I work, that’s unlikely to happen.
It is what it is.
So, to better live in peace with my IID (or my buddy, as I sometimes call it), I want to document a few things about the device that I couldn’t readily find elsewhere on the Web. I have a 2030 model, according to the back of the device. However, it’s definitely not the newer SSI 20/30 model that doesn’t have a hum feature. My device is older and looks like it’s been around the block.
I discovered that pressing #3 on the device showed me the number of violation points that I had remaining. The reading cycled through several categories, some of which I could guess what they mean, but a couple that I couldn’t. I sent a message to Smart Start through their site form:
From: DUI Blues
Subject: Existing Customer
I have a Smart Start unit and I was wondering what the numbers mean when pressing #3 on the device, such as Circ and Temp L/O?
Smart Start responded with this graphic, but it didn’t answer my question:
I can’t go between different prompts without unplugging the device and restarting between prompts. (I can’t check #1 then check #3 right afterwards, for example.)
I responded:
From: DUI Blues
Subject: RE: Existing Customer-Device reading inquiry
Thanks for your response. I know that #3 displays the violation points information, yet it cycles through several categories: RTestBAC, Circ, Test L/O, RRSkip, and Total.* I wanted to know what Circ and Test L/O refers to.
* There is also another category that is the first one shown: Init BAC. I assume it refers to whether I blew above the allowed BAC during start-up.
Every state has specific limits for each category.
RTestBAC is rolling retest. If the test is higher than the preset state limits, it will take away a point.
Circ is circumvention. If you disconnect your handheld when the vehicle is on or bypass your unit, it will take away a point.
Temp L/O is when you have some alcohol detected or abort your test too many times, it will take away a point.
RRSkip is rolling retest skip. If you do not take a requested test while driving, it is a skip. Also, if your device requests a test when you are parking and you do not test, but turn off your vehicle, it is a skip.
As seems to be the practice, they left off an answer. They didn’t say what Total refers to, but I didn’t ask because I guessed what it means. I had a few violation points deducted in a couple of categories, but I had none deducted from Total. Perhaps I had to lose all accumulated six violation points (the monthly allowed limit) to have one Total point deducted.
I’ve already described what the installation of the IID was like. It took about an hour, and was mostly painless except for being charged for warranty coverage I declined. For the monthly calibrations, which lasts usually about 10-15 minutes, the installer hooks up to the IID base in my car and also does a calibration on the device. Watching him do this, it was only then that I realized the data for the IID isn’t in the device itself. Or at least it isn’t the main source of it. The IID base continuously draws power from the car battery; it now made sense to me why it does that. It’s storing information. Smart Start warns against letting your car sit idle for more than a few days because the battery could be drained dead by the base. So far, I’ve gone at most two days without driving my car. I’m paranoid about taking a long out-of-town (non-driving) trip during my time with the IID because I don’t want to come home to a dead car battery. So, I’m most likely not going to take a long trip until I get the IID out of my car.
When I get to the IID removal (and yes, I’m counting the days), I’ll describe what that process is like.
I gave my teacher a mug with this message printed on it.
I attended the last of my AB 541 classes two weeks ago and it was a bit anti-climatic. I don’t know what I was expecting to feel after 10 weeks and 30 hours in the program. Relief? Newfound wisdom? I was given the chance to say something to the class, so I praised the program and gave my teacher a gift. I think I was truthful and grateful in that moment, but as soon as I left the building, and the last two weeks can also attest to this, I felt like I went back to my old self. I don’t feel relief. I just am. As for newfound wisdom, I learned quite a bit in the class, but at the same time if a judge told me that I couldn’t drink and drive ever again (no questions asked), that order would’ve sufficed. I know it isn’t that simple for everyone, but I feel like I learned my lesson the moment the cops pulled me over. The rest of this is just beating a dead horse.
The general feeling I have with this entire experience is I don’t feel like I need to go through it. If part of the reason for all of these punishments is to rehabilitate me and prevent me from re-offending, the resources are wasted on me. If the reason is retribution, how much is really required when I hurt no one and damaged nothing? Being punished for the fact that I could’ve hurt someone or damaged something borders too much on punishing me for precrime. I don’t get to choose what I can and can’t do, though. There’s no AP exam I can take to get out of these requirements.
By writing out these thoughts, I know I leave myself open to criticism about entitlement and not really “learning my lesson.” To that I say, does it really matter why I do it, as long as I do it? I’ve approached this experience with an open mind and humility, but at the same time I feel like, “Can we move on now?”
I live about 13 miles from work. On an average day, it takes me 30 minutes to drive there. Before my license was suspended, I tried riding my bicycle there once. In the morning, I took the shortest reasonable route (mostly on designated bike paths) and rode 16 miles in 85 minutes. (75 minutes of actual riding; I used 10 minutes to stop at a bathroom and eat a snack.) I arrived at work 35 minutes early, which gave me enough time to shower at the gym and not appear like a sweaty mess. On my way home, I took a longer route along streets because the bike paths aren’t lit at night. I rode 19 miles in 90 minutes with no stops.
Why pamper life’s complexities when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?When I got home, I didn’t feel tired from cycling itself, but I felt exhausted from the constant vigilance I needed to not get run over by drivers. I like riding my bike, but I’ve never used it as my main mode of transportation. Most of the time, I ride around town on weekends. Although riding a bike to work was “doable,” it really wasn’t going to save me time over using public transportation.
There were a few bus and bus/train configurations that could get me to work, but none involved fewer than three trains/buses and 90 minutes of travel time. Actually, with the walking time I needed to get to the bus/train stops, I needed at least 2 hours. That’s the same amount of time I needed to budget for myself if I rode my bike to have enough time to shower. At least I didn’t need to shower after riding the bus. (Although, since some buses were smelly, maybe showering would’ve still been a good idea.)
So, as a sanity check, I decided that biking and public transportation weren’t going to work as my main choices. Before my DUI, I had only used Uber twice before while traveling. (I also haven’t tried other similar services, like Lyft.) During my 30-day mandatory license suspension, I used Uber 32 times for a cost of $629.73. Most of the rides were from home to work and from work to home, but I also used Uber for some personal trips.
When requesting a ride from either home or work, I usually requested the rides at roughly the same times each day. I was surprised that out of the 32 times, I only had a repeat driver once. Although the rides were three weeks apart, during the second ride the driver said to me, “I remember you. I recall you got into some trouble.” (I told him about my DUI during the first ride. He also called Uber, “the DUI ride.”)
“I remember you too,” I said. “Reggae.” I pointed to his car stereo.
During most of the rides, I chatted with the drivers. Sometimes I wasn’t chatty if I was feeling particularly tired or I just didn’t get a good vibe from the driver. For the most part though, I wanted to have a pleasant conversation for the 30 or so minutes that we would be together. I would start off with the same questions for each driver. How long have you been driving for Uber? Do you do it full-time or part-time? What other work do you do? Do you usually work in this neighborhood? Where do you pick up most of your rides?
Most of the drivers were part-time and had been working for fewer than three months. Twice it happened that I got a driver on his first day. Their other jobs were loan officer, musician, actor, graphic artist, secretary, convenience store clerk, and student. (I’m sure there were more, but that’s what I remember off the top of my head.) Most of the drivers didn’t really give an answer about where they worked most often. They would just say a variation of “Uber takes you everywhere.” Here is the breakdown of the drivers I rode with:
Total Drivers: 31
Women Drivers: 6
Full-Time Drivers: 5
Ages 20s: 11
Ages 30s: 10
Ages 40s: 6
Ages 50s+: 4
For the ages, I’m only guessing, although some of the drivers did tell me how old they were.
Some drivers had funny stories that they shared with me. Riders who only wanted a ride to a drive-thru or to a liquor store. Riders who had curlers in their hair or their clothes falling off slightly. Most of the conversations I had with drivers were mundane, though. Some of them were curious about me and why I was using Uber, and most of the time I talked openly about my DUI.
One time, I had a driver pick me up after an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting. The meeting was in a building that had other programs besides AA. He ended up picking me up across the street because I had entered the wrong address to the building. “Sorry, I was in that building,” I said, pointing across the street.
“There?” He asked. “I used to work there. Does Alison still work there?”
“I don’t know. It was my first time there. I don’t work there.” Later on during the ride I told him I was actually at an AA meeting.
“Really?” He said, surprised. “I’ve got 22 years,” referring to his sobriety.
I’ve had an ignition interlock device (IID) in my car for two weeks now. The first few days were the hardest with the device. Obviously I was getting used to it, but there are design flaws with the system.
I passed, but I still feel like this means, “Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.”
The error I get the most often with the device is BLOW HARDER. I think my lungs are in pretty good shape. I’m active, I’ve run a marathon before, and I play the saxophone. During a rolling retest, I kept getting the error, so I called Smart Start. (I want to make it a point to always call them if it seems like I’m going to have the slightest problem with the device. I want any troubles I have with the device documented.)
The customer support agent listened to me blow into the device. I didn’t pass the test and right away she said, “Okay, did it tell you to blow harder?” I said it did. “Okay, it doesn’t actually mean blow harder. You have to blow softer.”
What?
“You have to blow softer so that you don’t run out of breath for 7 seconds.”
So, why isn’t the message BLOW SOFTER or BLOW LONGER?
I tried blowing into the device again a few times but I still got the BLOW HARDER message. I started to laugh. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m laughing because I’m feeling light-headed.” I paused, then added, “I also just got out of a martial arts class, so this is a bit of an indignity.”
After a few more tries, I was able to get it to pass, so I shut off the engine. I took this time to complain to the agent that the device behaves differently when in a retest than at start-up. I told her that I’ve been good at getting the start-up right the first time around, but that retests haven’t been as kind. She said everybody says that, and she chalked it up to the stress of having to do the retest. There is that, but she would not agree that the device behaves differently especially as the retest clock winds down. The device beeps constantly like it’s going to explode, and ceases to guide me through how long I need to blow before I hum. The previous customer support agent I spoke with agreed with me. I also have the problem where the device tells me to BLOW HARDER even before I blow, but this also only has happened when the device is in time bomb mode. She said if that’s the case, I need to take the device back to the installer.
Since I have to go back to the installer every month to “calibrate” the device, I’d rather just wait for two more weeks until my next required visit. (I’m dubious of the calibration claim. It just seems like a probation check-in.) I’ve come up with a ritual that seems to have enabled me to get the rolling retest right within the first few tries.
When I first hear the beep for a retest, I don’t pick up the device right away. Hearing the beep spikes my blood pressure, so I give myself a few seconds to let the pressure come back down.
I blow out any air in my lungs.
I take a deep breath, then pick up the device to my mouth.
I blow into the device softly, almost at a level that I think is too soft.
When I need to hum, I try not to blow harder as I hum, but it’s okay as long as I can make my breath last. Sometimes I don’t, so I have to try again.
If I have to try again, I take a sip of water to calm down, then back to 1.
I’m becoming more at peace with the device, though it is still inconceivable to me that I will need to have it for five months. I also remain in fear of triggering a violation. I have registered one violation so far. It was during a retest, so I passed the start-up just fine. After the violation, I blew into the device again and passed. I have no idea what could have caused the violation. I had some spicy food for lunch that day, but I was driving more than four hours after lunch. I think passing the following test right away should show that the violation was a mistake, but I feel like I’m not allowed to assume anything.
I looked at my contract with Smart Start a few days ago, and though I read the contract through when I had the device installed, I didn’t pay any attention to the receipt I was given. I had declined the optional warranty coverage for the device on the contract, as it seems like a pretty useless warranty. The warranty only covers the cost of replacing the device if my entire car is stolen. Maybe I’m making a false assumption, but I don’t think anyone’s going to steal my car when they probably can’t start it.
Although I declined the warranty, I was charged for it. It was an extra $7, which isn’t much in the grand scheme of my DUI costs, but it’s $7 I don’t think Smart Start deserves. I called the installer, who was the one who made the mistake, and was told that they couldn’t do anything because, “We didn’t take your money. Smart Start did.” I called Smart Start and talked to a customer support agent. She told me I had to call Collections. I called Collections, which gives you the option of dialing to three different people. I thought, Do only three people work in Collections? I proceeded to leave voicemails for each of the three different people, because of course I didn’t reach any of them live.
Eventually, I got the $7 overcharge to be credited to my account. I considered it a small win.
However, the final joke is still on me. Since I had the IID installed two days before I turned in the DL-924 form (Ordered Verification of Ignition Interlock) to the DMV, I thought that I would receive credit for the two days. This wasn’t the case. The DMV will allow me to remove the device from my car five months from the day I turned in the DL-924 form, not from when I had the device installed. This means that there are two extra days I need to pay for. Actually, it’s not just two days, it’s an entire month. There’s fine print at the bottom of the contract that says, “No pro-ration for partial month’s [sic] including, but not limited to the last month’s lease.”
I’m guessing that it happens pretty often that the installation date and the date that the DMV approves the paperwork don’t line up. It would’ve been possible for me to turn in the paperwork the same day, but I really wasn’t in the mood to give up six hours of my time that afternoon. (Also, lost in all of this DUI stuff is the fact that I do have a job.) But, what if I had the installation done on a weekend? What if I followed the instructions on the DL-924 form that said that I could mail the form to the DMV? What if the DMV “lost” the form?
If there’s anything I’ve learned from this experience, it’s that every fee is paid in nickels and dimes. There’s also plenty of apathy from the people collecting those coins.
I confess: I’m a bit of a packrat. I’m not a hoarder. I can see my floor, and my table tops and counter tops are clear (most of the time). Sometimes I keep things just to collect them or I think I’ll have a use for them later. What exactly that would be, I’m not always sure, but my first thought is always to save things for “art projects.”
I’ve saved every beer bottle cap and wine/champagne cork from alcohol that I’ve drank in my home for the last 8 years. The majority of drinking I do is at home, simply because that’s where I spend most of my free time. I can’t say with certainty how much I drink outside of my home, but I’ll make what I think is an over-estimation and say it’s the same amount as I drink at home.
I have 144 bottle caps and 73 corks. I don’t buy beers in cans or hard liquor, so I don’t think I have any home drinks I haven’t accounted for.
How much alcohol do I drink per week? Let’s say there are about five drinks in a bottle of wine/champagne.
Home Drinking
x = 144 beers + (73 bottles * 5 drinks)
x = 509 alcoholic drinks
Total Drinking
2x = 1018 alcoholic drinks
Drinking Per Week
2x / (8 years * 52 weeks) = 2.45 drinks / week
Now that I have this number, what does it mean? According to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA), this would put me in the “moderate drinking” category. I also probably don’t have an alcohol use disorder. From NIAAA:
Low Risk for Developing an Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD):
As defined by NIAAA, for women, low-risk drinking is no more than 3 drinks on any single day and no more than 7 drinks per week. For men, it is defined as no more than 4 drinks on any single day and no more than 14 drinks per week. NIAAA research shows that only about 2 in 100 people who drink within these limits have an AUD. Even within these limits, you can have problems if you drink too quickly or have other health issues.
I’m not an alcoholic or alcohol abuser, but does that mean I don’t have a drinking problem? For some people, the fact that I have a DUI leads them to believe that I must have a drinking problem. It’s hard for me to argue with them, because going through the DUI has led me to question myself. I’ve answered numerous questions to figure out if I have a drinking problem. Questions such as: 1) Do you drink alone? 2) Have you ever drank so much that you blacked out? 3) Do you have a DUI?
1) Yes, mostly because I live alone. 2) Yes, I’ve probably done this three times in the last 15 years. 3) Yes, I have one.
It’s been over a hundred days since my DUI arrest and my last drink. I’ve made a commitment to myself to not drink for 365 days. For the most part, I haven’t missed alcohol. But, in this last week, I’ve had moments when I’ve been tired or lonely, and I have wanted a beer.
From the AB 541 alcohol education program, I learned an acronym to use in that situation: H.A.L.T. It stands for “Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.” If I am any of those things, then I should stop and listen to how I feel, rather than reach for a drink to drown those feelings. Have I ever used alcohol as escapism before? Yes.
I’ve thought about what I was probably feeling the night of my DUI. I think I went drinking with my co-workers and stayed for hours because I didn’t have anybody waiting for me at home. I don’t really talk to many of my co-workers and I don’t consider any of them my friends. But that night, I wanted to feel a part of the team, because I just wanted to be a part of something.
Although many people speak anecdotally about themselves or others “becoming a different person” when they drink, I think I’m still “myself” when I drink. (Part of me also believes that when people claim they’re not themselves when they drink, that it isn’t true. Alcohol just helps drop the mask they usually wear to the world.) The police report for my arrest describes me as calm and cooperative. So, basically how I usually am, but drunk.
Although I don’t remember getting in my car, I can imagine what my thought process was that night. It was after 1am. It was cold. I probably thought to myself, Why did I just stay out so late with these people? I probably had some remorse for giving away my free time like that.
There’s this scene in Anne of Green Gables where Anne’s best friend Diana drinks wine not knowing that it’s wine. Suddenly, she’s drunk and keeps repeating, “I’ve gotta go home.”
I’ve had times before where I felt too drunk to drive, and I either gave up my keys, slept at a friend’s place, or did something else to sober up. But that night, probably none of those thoughts entered my mind because I stood there alone with my car and my mind was filled with only one thought of, “I’ve gotta go home.”
With nearly all of my requirements done for my DUI, the only things I have left are having an ignition interlock device (IID) in my car (less than 50 days to go) and being on probation (less than 3 years to go). The IID requirement has been by far the biggest pain. I’m convinced the main purpose of the device is to induce stress for the driver.
DUI Blues 