Irresponsibility (AKA why I love my parents)

I had meant for this post to be more of a recap of my Christchurch holiday, but something happened last night that was a lot more compelling. I went out for a few drinks last night and my friend S offered to sober drive, only having a couple of beers (which ewww, but anyway) over the course of the evening. Seeing as I had missed her birthday while on vacation I offered to pick up the tab for the couple of beers I thought she was having for the evening. We were at the first bar for quite a while with some friends, R & J, then S gets a text from this guy that she's been flirting with to meet him at this other bar. At this stage, S has had two beers, I've had about three potent RTDs and R & J have had about the same. We move on to the next bar and meet up with this guy, who seems very nice. Even though there's three of us - R, J and myself - we start feeling a little third wheelish and so R and I convince J to join us on the dance floor (he should feel privileged to have the attentions of two such gorgeous women) and we're out there having a good time, dancing things up. We finally get back to the table and guess what? Our sober driver? Not so sober. The flirtation had been buying her drinks the entire time we were dancing and she was now probably the most drunk out of all of us. The inevitable what do we do conversation took place and when it seemed that most of them were voting for J driving the car (while not noticeably intoxicated, he would have almost definitely been over the limit) I took stock of the situation and did the only thing I could have considered doing - I called my mum. Yes, that's right. A 23-year-old woman, and I called my mother in the middle of the night so that I wouldn't have to hop in the car with a drunk driver. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. I came back to the table and said I'd rung my mum to come pick me up, and that I wished that they would get a taxi (they all lived a lot closer to the bar we were at, and in the opposite direction). They were gobsmacked that I would have parents that cared enough about me to come out and pick me up rather than get in a dangerous situation. R made the comment that it must be the good thing about living at home and was surprised when I said that my parents would have done it any time in the last five years that I wasn't living at home, just to ensure that I didn't a) get a DUI - because believe me, the ridiculous idea that I was sober enough to drive the car came up in conversation or b) ended up smeared all over the road in an accident. A flatmate and I did the same thing for a friend when she ended up in town with a drunken sober driver - you would rather be safe than sorry. The group of friends, plus the flirtation all got home alright, but that's not really the point, is it? So think about being there for your friends, letting them know that if they are out and in a dangerous situation that it is okay for them to call you at any time - be a life line and show them how much you value their existence in your life. For me, it's times like this when it's clear how much my parents care for me.

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