An escort home

Yesterday Boyfriend attended a work party (he doesn’t associate with work people outside of work, and he doesn’t mix business with pleasure so I stayed home which was fine by me!) where he drank. A lot.

He called me from his car. DON’T PANIC. He was planning on sleeping it off or just passing out proper and going to work in the morning which, in his profession is ok. 

As we were chatting, one of his bosses came up to his car and asked if he was ok to go home. He explained that he was going to probably pass out and go home later. The boss said “I’m gonna have a friend come help you” and then left. Boyfriend and I decided that if in an hour he was still tipsy, I’d come get him. (He didn’t want to be sans vehicle when he had to work the next day, I totally get that.)

Cut to 1/2 hour later when the front door opens and Boyfriend strolls in. Wide eyed and definitely still pretty tossed. 

Apparently the “friend” his boss had called WAS A POLICE OFFICER. The Police Officer gave Boyfriend a POLICE ESCORT HOME. The Officer had him start the car and drive while he followed behind him. THE POLICE LET BOYFRIEND TIPSY DRIVE! I’m absolutely floored.

They even stopped at Del Taco so Boyfriend could get some iced tea and food (which he apparently didn’t even remember what he specifically ordered, funny but whoa dude) then followed him to the parking lot of our complex. 

When Boyfriend got out of the car, the Officer asked if he was “Ok to get to the door” which he was, Boyfriend profusely thanked Officer for all his help, and wide-eyed, walked to our house.  When he told me all this, he looked like he’d seen a ghost and kept asking if he was really home or if he was dreaming. He was thankful to be home.

My first question to him? “Did you offer to buy the Officer some Del Taco?”

Priorities man. Priorities. 

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