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The Worst Day of My Life
Waking at 500am on the day of September 5 18, Labor day weekend was suppose to be a day of joy. However, it turned out to be the worst day of my life. That morning, I was preparing to go to the Lynard Skynard concert up at Darien Lake, with my boyfriend Jim. When the phone rang, it was my mother warning me. “It’s Labor day weekend, not to drink and drive.” I told her, don’t worry ma, Jim’s driving so everything is going to be alright.” As I hung up the phone, I had a strange premonition that something bad was going to happen. I shrugged it off and I wasn’t going to let anything ruin my day.
During our three hour drive, we played the music loud, sang, talked about how great it was to be kid free for the day. We continued to talk about what we were going to do when we got there, just making small talk to pass the time. At last, we were there driving into the parking lot where a flagman directed us to park in a grassy area over by some trees. It was a long and tiring walk to the park entrance. The lines to the entrance gate were long, therefore jokingly; Jim and I said the lines reminded us of cattle being herded to the barn for milking. It didn’t matter; it was a beautiful, hot, and sunny day. While waiting in line I cracked open one of the beers we brought from home. Suddenly it seemed like I was drinking a beer in every line we waited in. The seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours. The beautiful sunny day dwindled fast, before I knew it the concert that I was so looking forward to was over. It was time to go home, the herd was being sent back to pasture.
While walking in the grass parking lot, I noticed I wasn’t the only one stumbling. Realizing we were both to drunk to drive, we decided to stay in the parking lot. Although the security guard told us we had to get off the lot so not thinking clearly Jim started the car and drove away. We didn’t get very far when I realized Jim was driving in the middle of the road. I asked him, “How much did you have to drink?” He slurred his words so I demanded him to pull over the car. I stated to Jim that I would drive the rest of the way home, claiming I wasn’t as drunk as him. As he pulled over I realized that was the worst mistake I ever made in my life. The next thing I recall are red lights in the rear view mirror, a police officer asking me how much I had to drink, the sobriety test, hand cuffs, locked in the back of a police car, finger printed, and bar cells.
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Sitting there behind bars I felt humiliated, embarrassed, angry with Jim for not keeping his word, and upset with myself knowing that I could of killed someone. Most of all, I thought of my mother’s phone call and my premonition of how I wasn’t going to let it ruin my day. In fact, what’s funny is that I don’t really remember the day but I’ll always remember that night.
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