Dorothy, Dave and I went to dinner at the Eagle Bridge Inn one night. I may have ordered a drink and could even have drunk it, though sometimes I just ordered to be sociable. My dinner partners had several, I'm sure. When we left the place, they decided to dance along the top of the rail fence outside the restaurant, with only some success. I think they were singing also. I got behind the wheel of my car with Dave alongside me and Dorothy in the back seat.
No sooner had we pulled onto the highway when we were stopped by the siren of a police car. (I suspect they must have been "observing" the late night activity of those revelers leaving the place of business.) I knew I wasn't in any violation, but the officer approached, asked for my license and said that he had noticed I appeared to be weaving. I was sure I had not been, but I guess they have to give some reason for stopping a vehicle.
Dave, a seasoned veteran of being pulled over, knew from experience that silence is golden in his circumstance. But my helpful sister in the back seat, still feeling pretty good and now quite amused at my being pulled over, offered this explanation to the officer, "Oh, she always drives like this, weaves a lot."
There was no follow-up and we were sent on our way. (I had not tried to balance on the fence.
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