In the early 1990s I was pulled over by the Cheboygan City Police around 3:00AM. Generally, the only people on the road at that time of the morning are cops and drunks, and the only reason the cops are out there is to catch the drunks. When he asked me how much I'd had to drink, I told him around 12 beers, which was the truth. What he didn't ask, and I didn't think to tell him, was that those 12 beers had been spread out over a period of 12 hours. This meant I would have been legal except that I had drunk four or five of those beers in about two hours just before the bar closed. (Michigan bars are required to close at 2:30, with last call being served by 2:00.) The bar was in St. Ignace, about a half hour drive from Cheboygan. If the cop had given me the Breathalyzer test shortly after he first stopped me, it would have been "Do not pass 'Go', do not collect $200." but, for some reason, he stalled around asking me questions for an hour hand a half before giving me the test, by which time I had sobered up enough to be just barely legal.
Right after I told him about the 12 beers, the cop asked me if I thought I was in any kind of shape to be driving. I replied, "Well I feel fine, but what do I know? You are a professional, if you say that I'm drunk, then I must be drunk." That pretty well set the tone for the rest of the conversation. I never argued with him, but I didn't kiss his ass either. I suppose I talked to him the same way I would talk to anybody who I had just met for the first time, "friendly but not overly familiar, neither condescending nor obsequious." The cop was pretty civil to me in turn, except when he got a little angry after I passed the Breathalyzer test. I don't blame him for that, I was as surprised as he was.
He seemed to be obsessed with the notion that I had gotten a six pack to go and drank it on the way home, although I repeatedly assured him that I had not. At one point he asked permission to search my truck, which I granted. I could have made him get a warrant, but I knew he wasn't going to find anything, so there was no point in that. I never encouraged him to speed up the process or slow it down either. Like I said, he was a professional and I wasn't about to tell him how to do his job. Towards the end, he asked me to do some things like walk a straight line and touch my nose with my finger. I no problem doing any of that until he told me to stand on one foot while holding my arms straight against my sides, which I could not do. I wasn't sure I could even do that when sober, but I tried it later at home and I could.
Before he let me go, the cop gave me a speeding ticket, 35 in a 25. I had driven that stretch of road many times and I honestly thought the speed limit was 35, but I checked it the next day and, sure enough, it was posted at 25. I paid a $50 fine for that, which was much cheaper than a drunk driving conviction. All things considered, it could have been worse.
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