Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do? Come to Austin!

So there we were, Chris and I coming home from an impromptu night out of Pictionary and Sweet Tea Vodka’s with friends. We drove on to 35 South from St. John’s, a drive we’ve driven a hundred times by now. We were absorbed in a rather serious examination of our relationship when a Chevy Tahoe almost sideswiped us. “Son-of-a-bitch,” Chris cussed, before slowing down to let the Tahoe get ahead of us. It was then that we noticed he was drunk. Really, really, really drunk.

It was just a couple of weeks ago that this same scene played out before us. Again, coming home from the same friend’s house at the same time of night (1:45am). And just like last time, we dialed 911. It didn’t take long to realize that this guy was far drunker than the last. As I talked to a 911 operator, the guy swerved across all three lanes of traffic, barely missing several cars. “I’m not kidding,” I told the operator, “this guy is going to kill someone if you don’t get an officer here soon.” We made this call at the intersection of 35 South and 8^th. The operator assured us she’d inform the police and dispatch someone immediately.

Meanwhile, drunk-driver is swerving across lanes, slowing down to 20 m.p.h. and then speeding up again. Chris and I both agreed that we would follow him until the police came because we were worried that he would hit someone and help would be needed. So away we go down 35, waiting for the police. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At several points along the way it appeared he was going to exit, only to veer back onto the highway. And there we were, veering with him (albeit far more cautiously). By this time, 8 (or so) minutes had gone by and I called 911 again. I gave all the information again (only this time reading his license plate the “police way” – saying 125-Victor Charlie 9), and again expressing how crazy this guy was driving. “We are going to follow him, because this is not going to end well,” I tell the operator. “That would not be advisable,” she says, “you will become a liability.” Exasperated I say, “then you need to get someone out here quickly before he kills someone.”

Finally drunk-driver made a hasty exit onto William Cannon (about 10 miles down the road for those non-Austinites). We follow and suddenly see 2 police cars speeding down the exit ramp behind us. “Finally,” we both yell. Chris turns on his hazards, pulls over and rolls down the window to motion to the Tahoe. And just as quickly, both cop cars speed right by us as drunk-driver takes off through the light. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Chris yells. And off we go to follow. We drove down the feeder to Slaughter (where we witness him driving off the road, completely onto the grass, then back on to the road), then follow him into the SouthPark Meadows shopping center and right into a Jack In The Box drive-through where he abruptly stops. I call 911 again, informing them of his location (along with repeating everything for a 3^rd time). Again, they say they’ll send an officer out. And again, we wait.

4 minutes into waiting (because now I’m timing this shit), we see a security guard driving around the Walmart parking lot. We flag him down and inform him of the situation. At the same time we notice that cars are not able to access the drive-through because drunk-driver has apparently passed out in his car. We wait another 5 minutes (with another cop car driving right past us), before someone manages to flag down an officer who happened to be at the Whataburger next door. Turns out, she had received no calls. As we were giving our statement, she asked why we didn’t call 911. “We did – 3 times!” we said emphatically. She then said they would attempt to “find our calls” and attach them to the report, “should this guy be arrested and taken to jail.” My jaw dropped a little and I said, “Oh no, you can’t let this guy get back in the car. Seriously. He will kill someone.” And she assured me it would be “taken care of.” We drove off, without seeing the outcome of the situation.

Seriously, is Austin having some kind of police officer shortage? This wasn’t some slightly drunken individual who swerved across a lane or two. This guy was all over the place. He passed out in a drive-through for fucks sake. It was 25 minutes from the time we made the first phone call to the time the officers finally showed up. 25 damn minutes! I dated a cop for a (very!) brief time when I was still living in Baytown, and their response time was supposed to be 4 minutes or less. Most cops could make it completely across town in 2 ½ minutes (I had the pleasure of witnessing this on one occasion), and per Wikipedia, Austin is only 7 times larger than Baytown. I mean, come on already.

Either way, Chris and I did our good deed for the evening. Thank goodness he didn’t run over anyone along the way. Though, had he, I would have been prepared with my fancy Emergency Roadside Kit complete with bright orange triangles. ‘Cause lord knows, the Austin cops would have needed them to find us…