The Test

He was too damn smashed by his own account- and trying to exit from the bar was no better. As he stumbled from his stool at the end of the bar, the bar keeper said something unitelligible. Actually, the bar keeper asked the guy if he wanted a cab should be called to pick him up; but being too drunk to realize that he was affected by the large amount of alcohol he'd consumed, the guy just kept going, fumbling for his keys in his pocket.

He was indeed intoxicated, his breathing was shallowed and he couldn't speak without every word slurring together in a haze of bad english. He didn't think that driving so soon after drinking heavily would really affect his driving skills, but then again, he was already under enough with which that thought alone was genius in and of itself. Mumbling to himself and pushing through the crowd of people inside the bar- the man made his way towards the front exit.

Once there, a heavyset black man with a goatee tapped the guy's shoulder lightly and asked him about getting a cab, once again. Giving his same response, the guy shrugged it off, and the black dorrman let the situation go. He wasn't the guy's daddy, it was no business of his to stop a person from driving after getting drunk. The guy was grown, who was he to stop him?

A group of young men and women were pushing past the front door and into the bar as the guy was on his way outside. He wasn't even all that interested in the crowd; one of the girls gave him a second look, but he was too smashed to interpret it correctly. Instead, he fished his keys from his pocket and hit the door unlock button on the remote emitter. The lights on a small BMW lit up, twice- with a short but very sharp horn blast. That was his car then, had to be.

Staggering over to it, the guy opened the driver's side door and stumbled inside- before closing the door and sitting in the seat for a fraction of a second. Breathing slowly with his head against the seat's headrest, he closed his eyes and could swear that he heard his heart beating. Opening his eyes, he slowly put the keys into the ignition switch and cranked the car's engine. Responding in turn, the engine came on right away- but the guy still couldn't get himself to focus on trying to drive himself anywhere just yet. He hoped he could sit there for some time, and calm himself down, but after sitting there for over fifteen minutes, his focus still wasn't back.

That was that then. He clipped on his seat belt, and slowly put one shaking hand upon the steering wheel and the other on the gearshift. He cut on the car's headlights and then eased the gearshift into 'Drive'. Steering out onto the street, he could see clearly enough that the light at the end og the street was blinking yellow. Yellow. That meant...that meant- caution light. Caution light was good, he knew that. It was around 1 or 2 something in the morning, so he figured that there shouldn't really be any type of heavy traffic out at this time of night.

In his mind, he was driving fine; in reality, he was serving over the street and extremely lucky in not hitting anything. He figured he could make it home and detox if he drove faster, again- there was nothing wrong with that thought in his mind. Stepping on the accelerator pedal a little more, the BMW's engine pumped out the appropriate horsepower to accomodate such a command; and the car shot down the street, still swerving unsteadily.

After driving for thirty or more minutes, the guy saw a pair of headlights coming towards him, and he kind of swung his car over towards the shoulder. As the lights grew closer and closer, the guy's eyelids suddenly became heavier and heavier. In a last rush of sudden andrenaline, he realized that he was blacking out- and there was nothing he could do about it.

There was a loud blaring as the driver of the oncoming car leaned on the driving wheel horn and tried to avert the guy from swerving into the passing lane. But the last thing that the guy remembered was the fact that when he really should've been awake, his body failed him and he blacked out right before the horrific moment of the two vehicles crashing together; a shower of glass and metal as the other driver was thrown through the windshield and killed instantly by the impact of hitting the pavement.

One of the horns was blaring incessantly; and wouldn't stop. The guy came around a short time after, and couldn't remember where he was. He looked up at the dark sky and focused on the moon as closely as he could. The moon's soft glare grew brighter and brighter, and kept doing so until a strong bright light filled the space around him.

And after that, came darkness.

He came to in a room filled with intense machinery and the soft drone of some type of brain monitor as it scanned him. Moving his head around, he found himself looking into the face of a young woman who was writing on a clipboard. She looked up at him when she realized he was awake, and gave him a grim look.

He realized that something was wrong, and even though he didn't want to hear it; he knew that he would have to sooner or later.

"So what did I mess up? This machine's monitoring my head, what's wrong with it?" He asked the technician.

She looked at him and stopped writing.

"Do you know what day it is, sir?" She asked him, and checked one of the monitors.

"I do. It should be November 12th or something...right?"

The technician looked undisturbed. She checked another monitor and made an adjustment to its controls.

"And the year?" She asked.

He tried to wrack his brain and remember the year. Then he came around again.

"It's 1998." He said, and the technician nodded her head in dismay.

"Yeah, I thought so," she said. "Actually, sir- it's the year 2893, and you've just finished your test."

The guy looked at her, then swallowed hard. "My test?"

"Yeah, your test. You came in to get your license reinstated, since your history shows that you like to consume alcohol. The infractions on your records mandated that we administer this test to you. So you've been sitting in this seat for less than thirty minutes as we fabricated a period in which people and alcohol consumption were rampant enough for laws to be passed- however inadequate they were. The machine set your mind in the late ninties, and then set your behavior level. You were prompted three times, by the machine of course, as it studied the levels of alcohol supplement in your bloodstream and adjusted itself through scenarios which you could prompt either to allow or desist."

The guy sat silently, then he looked at the technician again. "What were my results?

She blinked, then looked down at the clipboard.

"Your results are as follows: You were prompted three times through the scenario to change your decision, and yet, you still decided to drive home. On the way home, you killed two animals, one homeless man, and damaged countless city ordinance. You also killed one person in a auto collison and placed another in a coma."

The technician slowly deactivated the machine, then looked at the clipboard again.

"Per state regulations and mandates, it has been declared that your active decision to keep driving while under the influence makes you an extreme risk upon the citizens of this city and ultimately, upon yourself. With that being said, your license reinstatement application has been suspended...indefinitely."

Then she paused and looked at him again.

"Also, I hate to say it, but in accordance with your agreement by signing a non-exemptive clause in the contract, the local authorities have been notified and are awaiting your presence downstairs in the lobby. You're going to be placed in administrative psychotherapy care for the next twenty years. Under state and federal laws, you will be allowed to reapply again for this test after the duration of your probation has been served."