RBT and Me

Anyone who knows me well knows that if there is a RBT operation going on, the odds are that I will be waved in to be breath tested. I would say 98% of the time. I have been breath tested more times than I can remember.

Years ago, 2009 if my memory serves me right, B1 and I headed off to the Big Smoke (Canberra City) to attend a dance concert that our young friend was performing in. We also had with us another friend’s two girls.

I’m confident it was a Friday evening and Civic on any day at any time is a challenge, Friday being the worst. Friday night shopping, city workers taking up ALL of the car parking spaces, traffic, road work, etc, you get the picture. We arrived with little time to spare. I had to park a truck (Pajero) on a postage stamp. My friend is texting me “where are you?” And we still had to walk a distance to get to the concert. To say I was stressed would have been an understatement.

Finally we all arrived, my sanity was intact and I hadn’t screamed at anyone. A glass of bubbles on arrival and now seated for the performance, I had a couple of hours to breathe before I had to think about the return trip. I am a serial planner.

The time comes of course. It’s about 11pm. We head back to the car. You’d think the car park would be empty. Oh no, don’t be silly because now all of the night life crowd have arrived and replaced the city workers by taking up ALL of the car spaces and car spaces that don’t exist. Shit! B1 stands behind the truck to make sure I don’t hit anything whilst doing a 485 point turn trying to get off the postage stamp. Success! I think there is even a round of applause from the back seat.

So now we are out of the car park and on London Circuit and I am hoping there is a sign that will tell me exactly which exit to take however before that appears, I spot the Federal Police doing RBT. B1 laughs and says “you’ll be waved in Mum, for sure.” Yep, here we go. “Where are you headed tonight Mam?” I tell him we have just been to a dance concert and headed home to Cooma. He does the breath test, wishes us a safe journey and sends us on our way moments after I tell him that I am hoping I find my way off London Circuit successfully.

Off we go, me still suffering not quite an anxiety attack from the RBT (I’m not sure why it has that affect on me). I am just calming down when B1 informs me that I should’ve taken the exit that I have just driven past. Shit! So you can guess what happens next. We are doing the London Circuit lap, pass the centre where the performance was held, pass the car park that I have just extracted the car out of, see the RBT again and B1 again laughs as she informs me of my fate. Now even my backseat passengers are starting to see the humour.  Yep, in we go. It’s the same policeman, of course, only this time with quite a look of amusement. I was embarrassed. Told him what I’d done and promised that I wouldn’t be back for a third time. I kept my promise.

Do you feel anxious going through RBT? I have a new purse and I always get asked for my license. I can never get the damn thing out.

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