The Handsome Doctor
When I was 21, I went on a date with a good looking, 28-year-old surgical intern at a highly reputable hospital. I had one glass of wine to calm the jitters before arriving at the agreed upon restaurant. The date proceeded well and I had a few more glasses of wine (or maybe five) because the handsome doctor made me, a normally responsible woman, pretty damn nervous. I found myself completely wasted and decided that I should drive myself home. He insisted that I follow him to the major intersection less than a mile away and then we would part ways. Before we arrived I managed to tap the center divider. Next thing I knew I was trying to eat half a tube of mint chapstick to mask my breath for the police officer rapping at my window. Minutes later I was in the backseat of the cop car. My date fled the scene immediately.
Getting a DUI is one the most horrific things a person can do. But two days later I realize I was not the worst person ever; I was the second to worst. My date, who was also extremely intoxicated that night, called me to say that he “wasn’t about to get himself into any trouble, I mean, why should both of us go down? I am a doctor and you are just working temp jobs right now. My live-in girlfriend and I were in a fight and I thought it’d be fun to hang out with you for the night. I got the date out of my system and now I appreciate her so much more. So, have a good life, I guess.” That date cost me $10,000 in legal fees, my reputation, self-loathing and horrendous anxiety. By the grace of God I did not hurt myself or anyone else.
