#what happened to burgers and hot dogs??? beer?? shots?? how can you relax and enjoy a sport if youre so busy setting up the party

[daaytonaa]

I say this with love dont unfollow me - F1 FANS ARE SOO EXTRA!!!! theyre so extra and pretentious please just hand me a beer and drive in circles idc if its the equivalent of cocomelon for grown men. Ive tried so hard to get into f1 i think the guys r hot as fuck but oh my god ive never been so bored watching a sport IM SORRRYYY

[stusbunker]

Home is Where She Is

For Better or Worst Series: Chapter Nine

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Emery Simmons-Winchester OFC

Season 14 AU

Word Count: 2304

Summary: Sam talks to someone he probably shouldn’t, Dean hones in on something going on back on Earth, a flashback and someone makes up Sam’s mind for him.

Warnings: I had a really hard time with this chapter due to recent events. Please read with caution. Drunk!Sam, Angst, Negative Self Talk, Unexplained Phenomenon, Magical Persuasion, Angst.

Series Masterlist

^*^*^

For this reason, when I could stand it no longer, I sent to find out about your faith. I was afraid that in some way the tempter had tempted you and that our labors might have been in vain. -1 Thessalonians 3:5

              He wasn’t tasting anything, it hadn’t the time to settle on the tongue, it was shot back into his throat. Fast, hot, burning, crawling through his veins over the anger and into the tension in his chest and shoulders. Sam wasn’t an angry drunk, but he was an obvious one. Even after years knocking back the hard stuff alongside Dean, Sam had a limit and he had already surpassed it. The baseball game in the background kept the mood light as his fingers picked at the label of his beer. Something he hadn’t ordered, but what the bartender brought back instead of another double.

              Was this Becky all over again?

              Sam laughed mirthlessly at himself; who gets hit the same way twice? A shitty hunter, that’s who. He shook his head and tipped back the beer, letting the sour liquid coat his tongue and catch in the back of his mouth before emptying into a deep swallow. He heard laughter as a group entered, the sound melodious, sticking out above the rest of the noise surrounding him. He ignored it as the voice faded into the mumble of the group. The bartender started talking the Rockies’ bullpen and Sam fudged his way through the conversation, asking open ended questions to keep the man engaged. It was nice to talk to someone without expectations, to exist at the surface level of things.

              The distraction was short lived. Sam pouted as the bartender suggested something to eat but nodded and acknowledged the offer after a dizzying trip to the bathroom. It was then that the peace of the superficial was broken.

              “Well, look who is out of the house and off his leash,” Cady’s voice goaded from the high-top table across the way. Sam closed his eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the itch to reply. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself from slurring his comeback. He kept his eyes on the screen. Her friends seemed to ignore her sudden outburst and the din continued, but her voice repeatedly rose above the general conversation, reminding him he was being watched. Not a comforting feeling, especially for one who preferred the other side of observation.

              Sam started spinning his wedding band on the bar, getting lost in the reflection as it crossed through the glass of water he received with his burger. It wasn’t anything flashy, but the ring reminded him of his wedding night, the glimmering circle in Emery’s eyes. The promise and the pact. He slid the cooled metal back on to his hand, familiar now in weight and position. Somewhere between that night and now things got complicated and he had been duped. How could he be sure it wasn’t her fault? What better way to keep him in line than make him forget he made a deal in the first place? Make him forget who he was at all.

              “Somebody is awfully quiet over here,” Cady’s voice came out as a husky whisper, her hand perched on his seatback. Sam inhaled and smiled back sloppily.

              “Cady! Enjoying yourself?” Sam asked, eyes not quite open. “How were finals?”

              She squinted at him before biting back a huge grin. “Good, yeah. Sam?”

              “Hmm?” Sam replied, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. She plopped down and turned to face him, resting her cheek in her palm against the bar. Interest and mischief battled over her features.

              “Are you seriously drunk right now?” She smiled at the bartender who shared her summation.

              Sam gave her the side eye as air puffed out of his lips in disbelief. “Do I look drunk?”

              “Um, yeah, you’re totally sloshed. I like it. I don’t think I’ve seen you relax before,” Cady trailed off, eyes sparkling as his lips scrunched up against his nose.

              “That’s because you only see me at work. Not really the place to relax, or drink, for that matter,” Sam adds like it is some untold wisdom.

              “I suppose,” Cady chuckles. “But we’re not at work now.”

              “We—are not,” Sam agreed. “But don’t try hitting on me again. It wasn’t fun last time.”

              Cady giggled and rolled her eyes as the bartender pretended not to hear their conversation.

              “Yeah, that was pretty dumb of me, huh?” Cady leaned forward grabbing Sam’s left hand. “What with you being happily married and all.”

              Sam’s face crumbled for the briefest second, his brow and lips unsure what they wanted to convey. He watched her inspect his ring, pulling back when she tried to take it off.

              “Don’t be like that,” Sam said over a pointed finger. Cady held up her hands in surrender, laughing at his unintimidating tone.

              “What are you even doing here? Drinking to drink?” Cady continued to prod.

              Sam shrugged, draining the last drops of his beer. He didn’t want to move on to the water, not yet. Dejectedly he started picking at his fries, dragging the plate towards Cady as she hadn’t stopped eying him eat. She took one and chewed on in carefully.

              “Why are you drinking, Sam?” Cady tried again.

              “Do you ever think about how much we change food to make it taste good? How many things are done to a potato to make it into a fry? When the potato itself is food, but we have to peal it and slice into it and just scald it in oil to make it desirable?”

              “Can’t say that I have thought about it lately. Where are you going with this?” Cady took another fry and looked over to her friends.

              “You can go, you know. You’ll have more fun over there. I’m not close-the-bar kind of fun,” Sam lamented.

              “Oh, I bet you could be,” Cady reassured, but stood anyway.

              Sam gave her a sad smile and a gentle nod. “Be safe?”

              “You too. I’m not going anywhere, if you need a ride, okay?” Cady looked back to the bartender before giving Sam a one-armed hug. He pulled his face away from the embrace but patted her forearm all the same. He didn’t know how he felt anymore.

^*^*^

              Everything she touched crumbled in the end. Emery stood feeling utterly helpless as Sam walked out of the house. His phone remained on the charging dock attached to the Bluetooth speaker which they kept opposite the stovetop; she wouldn’t be able to find him if she tried. If he went after the angels, they were dead or as good as. She wasn’t sure what would happen if he simply left her there and returned to his old life. He needed something out of this arrangement just as she did, but was it enough to keep him there?

              Baffled, Emery tossed the remnants of Sam’s meal and started loading the dishwasher. Once the mess in front of her face was cleaned up, her mind started to spiral. She headed to put away her shoes, taking the stairs dejectedly. As she closed the door to her closet, their oversized bed silently mocked her. Her sudden domestic bliss wasn’t reverting to the bitter stalemate it had been, it was completely unraveling. And yet she couldn’t quite understand why she was taking it so personally, why this felt more like a rejection than a jumbled negotiation. Why Sam walking away to clear his head was immediately equated as a failure on her part.

^*^*^

              Dean felt many things behind the wheel of the phantom Baby with Michael at his side: fear, resolve, annoyance, and panic, just to name a few. What he felt that night, though it was perpetually night, was something new and it made him that much more alert. In a word, it was defeat. He glanced over to the smug bastard angel to see if he felt it as well, but Michael was the same as ever. Dean fixed his grip on the wheel and sank shallowly into the sensation, the need to find the source and the fear of what it meant steadying his descent.

              Suddenly, the rearview mirror flickered from the repetitive retreating streetlights onto a bedroom, big and bright, centered around a very inviting bed. Suddenly a woman appeared, followed by a mutt. She spread across the comforter and stroked the opposite pillow as the dog circled at the foot of the bed. Dean didn’t know how, but he knew her even to the point where her name was on the tip of his tongue. Trying to hold his reactions in check, he continued to watch her as she began to sniffle, love lost flowing to him from upon the silent screen.

              Suddenly, she sat up and dragged herself to her feet, a voice both faint and coaxing reached through the void. “Let’s go Banders, if Sam’s not coming back, we really do have the whole place to ourselves.”

              “Oh look, another dog,” Michael slipped in, unimpressed. Dean rolled his eyes and looked back to see her before she left the room, but the darkness behind them had returned across the mirror.

^*^*^

Sam was starting to feel the sofa in his bones, the nights he refused to sleep in the bed with Emery began to accumulate in his joints. Bedraggled he rolled down onto the floor where Bandit found him doing his morning push-ups. After going through his regular routine, Sam went upstairs to shower and change. He knocked on the door to the room he no longer claimed as his, though it was where all of his clothing was kept. As he opened the door, Sam was greeted with a considering smirk on his wife’s face. Emery’s hazel eyes seemed to sparkle with untold gratitude and the sheer pleasantness of her expression dazzled him.

She had always been beautiful, his original appraisal hadn’t changed with the waning of the wedding spell’s magic. But that morning Emery’s beauty radiated out like a fireplace, warm and inviting, comfort at last. Sam actually sighed as an awkward grin bent his lips and he gave her a small wave.

“Uh, sorry, I thought you were done,” Sam apologized and started backing away.

“No, it’s okay!” Emery blushed. “I didn’t say anything, because I was hoping to surprise you back.” She adjusted a glinting bottle on her dresser top before speaking again, Sam confused, waited to see what she meant.

“I can’t believe it has been a month already, can you?” Emery slipped into her shoes and glanced at Sam over her shoulder.

“I guess not,” Sam agreed, still slightly dumbfounded by the new aura she held. They looked at each other, in the eye, the first time in weeks without annoyance or trepidation and shared a shy smile.

“Anyway, I’m done, have at it.” Emery paused at the door, sounding hopeful. “See ya after work?”

Sam nodded casually. The closing door sent a waft of jasmine back to him.

^*^*^

              Cady whistled as she pulled up to the curb outside the obscenely well-lit corner house. Sam grunted in the backseat as Cady’s roommate shoved him back to his side of the bench seat.

              “Dude, we’re here,” an unfamiliar voice pulled Sam from the depths of sleep, with a jarringly familiar phrase.

              “Yeah, I’m up,” Sam muttered, wiping the drool from his beard. Looking up at the house from the sedan’s backseat made him feel nine years old, the two-story monstrosity looming above, like all those that waited until his dad could vanquish its past. Instead of ghosts or even ghouls, it held forgotten truths and guilt, the shame of his outburst and the distrust of months of affection. He didn’t remember asking them to take him home.

              “You okay from here, stud?” Cady called from the driver’s seat.

              Sam croaked out something close to a ‘who the hell knows,’ but recovered with a decisive throat clear. “Yep, thanks.”

Like a new foal, Sam pulled himself out of the tiny backseat, unfurling his limbs until his feet steadied underneath him. Slapping the roof with two quick pats, Sam was off, heading back to the place that he couldn’t seem to leave.

              The security system was armed, causing Sam to grab for a weapon that was not in his belt, before he staggered toward the keypad beside the front door, that they never used. He groaned in relief while the disabled chime rang out. He squinted in the dark, trying to gain his bearings in the silent house. If Sam had been closer to sober, he would have been surprised that Bandit hadn’t come to greet him, if not concerned that the alarm hadn’t woken Emery.

              He stumbled into the Den, not wanting to ascend the stairs or set down his pride just yet. After nearly whiffing on the two steps leading into the sunken room, Sam caught himself on the archway. A slight growl came from seemingly nowhere. Slowly, Sam focused on the sight before him, emotion burned deep into his chest, causing the breaths to heave as he tried to meter their intensity. Bandit was pinned to Emery’s side as she slept, but the dog’s tail wagged once he saw it was Sam. Ever the dutiful boy, Bandit let his snout fall back into the crook of Emery’s arm. Seeing them huddled together like that, almost like they had been waiting up for him, damn near broke Sam in half.

              He lowered himself down onto the stairs, elbows falling to his bent knees as he cried. He cried out of frustration of having a life so tangible and impractical, for wanting to keep it. He cried because he was drunk and when he wasn’t sappy happy; he got morose. But mostly he cried because he was so relieved that she stayed, but so terrified that he could no longer rely on his feelings to guide him. Sure, he was smart, but his instincts came from inside and without those, who was he?

^*^*^

Read On: An Olive Branch and A Crossroads

[jebsus]

My Dee You Eye

As most of you all (0 followers) know I have struggled with substance abuse and chemical dependency issues throughout the last 4-5 years of my life. Well, besides the fact that my life/ lifestyle had become unmanageable (if I didn't improve the path I was on). The legal consequences of addiction also caught up to me. About this time last year ( mid - late June 2016) I received a DWI (misdemeanor) and a 5th degree possession of control substance (felony) charge . Now I'm not much of a boozer to begin with , although I've had my fair share of wild nights and still enjoy letting loose n wild'n out on occasion, and even less of a drunk driving enthusiast. To be honest I am very against the action , openly. Now people do make mistakes (me being exhibit A in this case) and boundaries will always be tested and disputed. In this day and age , and even more so in past generations, drunken driving has been viewed and treated as too socially acceptable IMO. Now since turning the age of 21, the legal drinking age in The United States, I can confidently say that I have only driven about 5-10 times when I've been over the legal blood alcohol level of .08 (in Minnesota), and that's 5-10 times too many. In comparison, while attending the mandatory MADD (mothers against drunk driving) class , they had gathered some information that said most offenders will have driven drunk/ over the legal limit 80-85 times before they are caught. Now I'm not saying this in my defense, like why don't I get my other 70 opportunities to endanger society, but I'm saying it as a way to convey the fact that it is happening way too often and going almost completely unnoticed in many circumstances. Being the, consciously trying to and making plans to avoid drinking and driving, type that I pride myself on being. This mid June 2016 day / night I did put efforts in place to ensure I wouldn't need to get behind the wheel. I arrived at the residence of my childhood/ grade school neighbor/ close friend's brothers house in Cambridge around 2-3 pm. My grade school pal is in town from Montana and his brother had recently purchased this home in Cambridge so I had made plans to come through on this weekend to catch up n cool out. I arrived n bullshitted with the brothers and their father ( who surprisingly to me was also their, and even weirder to me was wearing long black pants, a dark blue hooded sweatshirt, with a thick Detroit Red Wings jersey over that... On a 95 + degree June afternoon). After catching up and meeting the new girlfriends and roommates, the light beers in the fridge were cooled to the perfect temperature. I did not arrive with any beverages of my own as I did not know what the day / night would bring forth , but there was great hospitality and many offers for me to indulge in their beers ( something I wasn't so accustomed to seeing from my drug of choice (heroin) and people I hung around / used with ). Taking advantage of the beautiful weather and hot sun we played lawn drinking games such as Beer Pole, Bag Toss, Beer Darts, and a game I hadn't seen before called "Can Jam". Google it and enjoy, I've been told it's available at target or done shit. In the early stages of the night here I'm careful to take it slow n really not have anymore than 3-4 beers over these first 2-3 hours as I don't know what my plan is for rest of the evening after I potentially leave this get together. Around 5-6 pm some smells of hot dogs and burgers come from a nearby grill. Bet I'm staying for some free BBQ no doubt. By this time a few more party goers have shown up , including one of my best friends sisters (unexpected as she was a Cambridge native and this gathering seemed to include St. Francis , East Bethel, and Pine/Rush City folk. Come to figure out she dates one of the roommates of the residence) who I know stays with the chronic at all times. This is a blessing as I was currently dry and was thinkin I wouldn't mind putting a blunt in the air or sumn'. As suspected she rolls up and me her n 1 other associate puff daddy'd a joint to get right. Now even though this gathering is small I'm having a good time and am really enjoying catching up with and partying down with my childhood best pal ( we missed out on the partying phase of our friendship as I ended up attending a different high school and then going out seperate ways for college). So I make the decision finally, I'd like to really party and let loose. I ask Jake (childhood pal) and his brother Jeff if their finna get a little wild tonight , if they mind if I join in the wildness, and most importantly if I can crash there for the night cause if I have one more beer driving anywhere is really no longer an option. All questions were appropriately answered yes. Plan is in place to responsibly get shit faced and not have to drive while face is shit. Now the beers are going down quite a bit easier and more care free. Me and Jake are cleaning up the competition in the leisure drinking games. Occasionally toke from the chronic, things are going well considering the lack of available females in attendance, but that wasn't the mission thus night. Objective A was just to have a good time with old friends and reminisce of the good times of past we had as carefree children. In the early evening (7-8 pm ish) some "friends" of one the roommates show up in a condition commonly referee to as "half in the bag". They meant well n were just lookin to join the fun, but one clown that was with them seemed to have a unwarranted cockiness to him. Which didn't help his cause when it was revealed that none of them had alcohol of their own and were expecting to mooch off everyone else already there (like I was.... But shhhh). Liquor stores a mile away go pick up some booze if your own they were told, n did. As night is starting to fall and various states of drunkenness are setting in they return with a case of beer and a large bottle of fireball whiskey. I hate and despise both cinnamon flavor (I.e. Big red gum) and whiskey but for some reason when a bottle of fireball gets brought out I can't say no to a pull off the bottle . And after a pull I'm usually the leading force behind the " let's pass it around till its gone" movement. Looking back, never has that actually been a good idea or ended well. With liquid courage running through everyone's veins the cocky for no reason clown starts running off at the mouth and even put hands on Jeff's girlfriend . Now while everyone else there has some loose connection to this idiot n wants to just tell him to calm down n relax , when he says something to me I don't take that approach. Knowing that 98% of the party goers hate him n in reality would rather him not be there I call him on his bluff , his cocky I'm Better than every body else here routine. He calms down a bit realizing he's on everyone's last nerve. All is well again. Until out of the blue the home owners girlfriend starts going at him cussing n swinging ( apparently he had called her the word you don't call the home owners girlfriend if you would like to remain to be allowed at said homeowners party). In the process of defending himself against the onslaught of the flailing arm technique that Ashley had deployed against him he definitely crossed the line and went over board with what appeared to be a punch attempt followed by a landed punch on a female. Needless to say several people politely yet physically escorted the dumbass to the vehicle he arrived in and announced that whoever's vehicle that was immeadiately leave with the vehicle and coward who just hit a woman. Time check, about 10-11 o clock ish. I'm drunk.... Not piss your pants drunk, but like Tara Reid drunk. So naturally being I graduated from Cambridge High School I started trying to recruit a female drinking partner of whom I might have a chance to do the horizontal hula with to come join me at this party. Fun fact, in high school I had actually used to fool around with neighbor ( who made a brief appearance at the party) of jeff's recently purchased home's daughter, while she was in a relationship to a future University of Minnesota national champion heavyweight wrestler. (humble brag). Unfortunately she was not home at the time , although I think that ship has sailed for me by then anyway. Unsuccessful in my endeavors n really getting no progress except making a bunch of drunk calls I put that project on hold and joined the rest of the groups effort to try to find a way to get pizza into our mouth holes. Dominoes is closed by this time and there are no pizzas in the freezer inside....☹️. This is about the time where the real bad decisions start happening. Wal mart is open 24/7 and is a one road straight shot about a mile away. Route is suspected of being more than likely cop free as it is a low traffic road at that time of night naturally. I'm telling myself I know better I'm not risking driving into town or anywhere for that fact in this condition, but wasn't bright enough to not allow someone else to and put myself in danger by choosing to make the short trip with them. Luckily, and thankfully the trip was a success, we made it there and back and were rewarded with Mountain Dew and frozen pizza, MmMm mmmmm. As the pizza is cooking I seek out one of the fellow tree burners of the party and inquire about the possibility of going out to my car to blaze a little bud while the radio plays a groovy tune or two. He accepts the offer/ request and follows me to the 300. After roasting a bowl he pulls out a bubble containing melted down substance of what I believe to be meth ( of which I've seen by this point in my life but have had almost no interaction with or even real knowledge of how to use one ) and asks if I would like to take a couple hits off that. To which I decline but also tell him I appreciate the offer and not to be weird about it or nothing because I'm in no way judging, especially since I had only recently kicked my heroin addiction and had a close friend actually OD earlier that day (thank god he received attention in time and was saved by paramedics). Now the snowball effect of negative events ..... We go back in for pizza, hoping we killer enough time for it just to be finishing up. Perfect timing , scarf down 2 pieces of Heggies 6 pack all meat pizza and a refreshing Mountain Dew to wash it down. Party winding down , those not spending the night having left or are just leaving , I take a seat on a couch that looks like prime real estate for me to stake claim to as a sleeping apparatus, came stick with 2 pillows and quilt like blanket on it. What more could I ask for. People going their separate ways like Jeff to a random 2am shower, Jake to a down stairs bedroom to get some booty from his girl, my friends sister n her boyfriend who lived at the house had gone to bed already. I sit casually on the piece of furniture I claimed slowly sliding into taking grasp that it was time for me to sleep . As I'm about to enter slumber and drunken dreams of me hanging out with Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro or Margot Robbie naked, I hear some ruckus come from the basement making its way up stairs. Apparently the bubble master had offered some to one of the house members earlier and they were not as casual around it as I and had just told Ashley (Jeff's girlfriend) about the incident, but also took it upon himself to tell her that I was with him smoking bubble in my car earlier .... Referring to when we smoked a different Moore casual more socially acceptable drug (weed) in my car. So as one can expect , being totally not cool with hard drugs like meth and not wanting it in the confines of her home, she is freaking out. Now through the transitive property this is her house as well and I understand her point of view but I'm trying to explain my position in this mess of hearsay. Bubble master has already been told to leave and dos so without a fight, so he's not there to confirm I was innocent and in reality turned him down. Jeff is in the shower, so he can't calm her down n vague for me. Jake getting booty and I'm not going to interrupt that to have him convince her that I am allowed / absolutely going to stay there. Between a rock and hard place. Ashley asks "can you drive?" So I respond "I have a license, my car is here, yes I can drive. But should I? No I absolutely should not drive anywhere." I kinda lay down n just figure if she knows I'm just going right to sleep n not here to still party n cause trouble she will just let it be n let me sleep . No dice, she starts in again "can you drive?" I respond again "I'm a human being with the capability to drive, but it's not ideal under these conditions." I get told this time that if I can drive I need to go right now. So with no one around to support my being able to stay I conjure up an attitude n say fuck it, fine I'm fuckin out then. Reverse out the driveway n skrt skrt away. While pulling out the driveway I acknowledge I'm pretty wasted and shouldn't be behind the wheel. Now I grew up in this town , majority of my friend base lives in this town. I even knew of two very close friends whose parents were out of town that weekend. So I had options .... I could call one of my many of friends for a ride. I could drive the short distance to one of those friends house n be almost guaranteed entry and a spot to crash. I could call my father for a ride being he only lived 10 minutes away in Isanti. I could have drove to my fathers and although he wouldn't have been happy about the situation would have allowed me a spot to sleep at. Hell, my college roommate's parents house was a block away and I don't recall if he was staying with them this summer or not (because I didn't even bother to make the call) but I know his younger brother was living there and would have let me crash if I asked . In true reality if I would have stood my ground at Jeff's and got him or Jake into the conversation I would have been allowed to just stay there like the original plan called for. I went for the logical choice of D.) None of the above , and instead decided that I was going to make the 30-40 minute drive home to blaine down state highway 65 the whole way. Brilliant!!! The beginning of the drive I'm conscience of the fact I'm wasted and am still considering just going to Isanti to dads, but it's 3 am and he's sleeping and the dog will bark and blah blah blah. I get to the decision intersection of County rd 5 and State hwy 65 , straight on 5 to dads, left onto 65 to moms. I make the left, there's very little traffic out at this time of the night/morning. Set the cruise at the speed limit (65mph), put in a good disc (Redman- Malpractice). That's when I find not only dude mans weed pipe (which I was lowkey jacked about cause it has been re packed n we never took another hit so it was all fresh green) but also he had left his bubble in my car. Common sense says throw in out the window right then, but I wasn't much in a common sense state of mind. Next to the bubble is also a small baggie of what looked like glass shards, now known to be glass shards (aka meth shards). Throw it , right.... Nah I just leave it like a dummy. At this point I'm a little over half way home and I've sobered up a smidgen, seem to be in control and driving well, there's hardly but 4 other souls on the road with me, it won't be a problem to make it home. Then maybe I'll learn how to smoke that bubble cause now it's peaked my curiosity. I realize I need some gasoline , it's not urgent, I could probably even make it home, but it is getting down there. I don't got my card on me so I'm going to have to go to a holiday or SA being that they are open 24 hours so I can go in and pay with cash. Now I know at the next two stoplights there is a Holiday at the first light and then a Super America at the second light, but they are both on the left hand side so I would have to cross the highway twice and end up waiting at 2 lights, which for some reason was an issue for me at The time. Bingo, there's a Super America on my right hand side sooner than either of those lights. I remember this station being of a different company no more than a year prior but it's since been rebranded an SA. Take a right, pull in, pull up to a pump. There's not another car in the lot (I.E. No workers present) the awning and sign are lit up as well as the pumps but the inside lights are off or at the least dimmed. This is not a 24 hour SA and I don't have my card, so I pull away accepting the fact I'll have to cross the highway and hit one of the other 2 stations. It's about now , as I'm pulling away from the pump after just pulling up fur seconds and not getting out, that I spot across the street in the empty movie theater parking lot there are 2 police chargers pointed right in my direction. Trying to play it off smooth I just exited n took a right back onto the highway, pretty much assuming I was toast after that incredibly intelligent maneuver. I did not notice either pull away from the movie theatre right away and as I passed the next stoplight I didn't notice any signs that one or both of them were behind me. Still being cautious and fully concentrating, cruise set at 66 mph, focused on staying in between the lines in the right lane , just incase. Now approaching the second stoplight (where the 24 hour SA is on the left but I've decided to not fuck with all that business no more) when I see a vehicle approaching at a decent speed. I could only guess it was one them cops, n it was, but he didn't light up the cherries right away. He probably followed me for about a half mile to a mile, of which I felt I drive flawlessly (and months later after seeing the dash cam my lawyer told me I was driving without flaw). You know police though, he would have made up any damn thing eventually, he knew what a 20 something white male driving at 3am, pulling into a closed gas station only to pull right back out, going exactly the speed limit, in the right lane, was really up to. He flipped the lights, regardless of what his excuse for stopping me was going to be it didn't matter cause he had me. I pulled off to the right and into a restaurant called "The Red Ox Cafe". I parked in a parking spot hoping that since it was in a spot at this restaurant they wouldn't impound it. I was wrong. I also remembered the drugs again and hoped that if I basically cooperated and didn't fight the DWI process that they would not search the car, just impound it and take me in for drunk driving. Also wrong. Failed the road side sobriety test just as bad as I did college accounting. Blew a point one four (.14) blood alcohol level, which is just under twice the legal limit (at which point the penalty becomes more harsh), they found all the what nots and of course didn't buy the "it's not mine" excuse (ironic cause it really wasn't.... This time) got hauled in and spent 5 days in Anoka county. Got a lawyer to help handle this and some of my other legal situations I was already in the middle of or about to find myself in the middle of. As a direct result of these charges I now have a Smart Start ignition interlock device (blow to go) installed in my car, whiskey license plates, previously mentioned MADD class, DWI education class, 40 hrs community service, and some odd amount of fees. Months later after sentencing I received 30 days jail, 2 years probation, and an order to attend a 30 day inpatient treatment facility. Although there were forces working against me, they made not have had a legit reason to stop me, I had on plan to avoid driving, they really weren't my drugs, it wasn't my 85th time driving over the limit, or any other excuse I could make for why it was okay I did it. In the end it wasn't okay, and unfair as I or anyone may feel it to be, cops did their job. I suffered the consequences and learned my lesson .... Hell in still suffering the consequences and still going through that lesson. Most importantly though is nor me , another driver, pedestrian, or even an animal for that matter got hurt or killed for me to learn this lesson. Put an end to the social acceptance of drunk driving. DO NOT add to the statistics. DO NOT tolerate drunk driving.