You could also file this under, “Quote of the day.” Of all the questions to ask: Did you invite him in?.
The article is amusing, but not really of interest for my purposes here, though you could almost call it “Cops behaving badly.” But the story takes a look at the whole “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” thing.
We can all get hit with nostalgia, even for the less-good bits of the past.
At one time virtually every public building, from the top of the mountain to the bottom, had a liquor license, and I distinctly remember, albeit a little muzzily, more than one night where we pub-crawled through most of them.
Friends didn’t just let friends drive drunk back then; they piled into the car with them and went along, hooting and hollering, for the ride. And anyone who tells you differently either wasn’t here at the time, wasn’t paying attention, or is lying through their teeth. [my emphasis. Z-Deb]
Oh how we miss the good-ol’ days. And the author is completely correct on that assessment, I’m sure, because although I was never in the locale that she is describing, I was in many just like it. A town not too far from where I grew up was (a little) famous for the number of churches. Of course they were far outnumbered by the bars, to the point I think more people could sit down to drink in their local watering hole Saturday night, than could sit down for services Sunday morning. I could be wrong.