Putting 'cell' in celebration

Drunk driving is a bad decision not an accident, a shameful, avoidable and totally unacceptable decision.

Many a Monday morning office chat is peppered with escapades involving partying, drinking and driving - and although we read about the consequences in the daily papers, seldom do we talk about our own experiences.

I thought she would refuse to talk to me, but Rowena* agreed to share her agony with me. Here it is, in her own words:

It was just another Friday night, and as usual, my girlfriends and I were planning a night on the town.

I was excited because it had been a particularly tough week at work. As a business analyst for a blue-chip company, I am very serious during the week but, come the weekend... well, you might call me a weekend warrior, a party animal of note.

With saving for my holidays taking priority, I thought I could save money by having a few drinks before going out. I began drinking on my way home - buy a can of coke, drink half, then fill up with brandy.

By the time I joined my friends, I already had that familiar, delicious buzz. Dinner was great, not only the food, but also because three beautiful professional women in designer dresses and jeans always attract attention.

Before long, different groups of men were sending drinks to our table.

I danced a bit and sang a couple of songs sand then my best friend, Tumi*, shouted that she had to leave. Even though she knew we were drunk, she left us at the bar. She even ordered us another round of shots. We were used to drinking and then driving home all the time. This was nothing unusual.

I welcomed that feeling of relaxation seeping into my body and giggled as my vision started to blur, I bumped into people, and spilt my drink on others.

At this point I knew if I had one more drink I would not be able to drive home, so I left. Driving home I sipped my coke. But as I brought the can up to my lips to get the last few drops, I was blinded by the headlights of another car and I noticed several oncoming vehicles - in my lane.

I remember shouting "bloody drunk drivers" as I swerved to avoid being hit.I remember seeing a green light which turned red all too quickly. Other cars came out of nowhere. I put my foot down hard to get out of danger.

I saw flashing lights behind me and said a silent prayer for the poor jerk being chased by the police. I accelerated while the feeling of my head resting on a pillow came over me. The next thing I knew my pillow had turned into a hard metal bonnet and my arms were held painfully behind my back.

Two men in uniform were shouting at me. I vaguely heard something about driving into oncoming traffic and skipping several red lights at 180km/h.

I couldn't believe it. My worst nightmare had come true - my heart pounded, my throat dried up and tears welled up in my eyes. I had been caught drunk driving - and I was going to jail.

I spent the rest of a bad weekend in a cold, dark, stinky police cell, in the company of prostitutes, petty thieves and other drunk drivers.

I was allowed a brief call but hearing my fiance's voice almost broke my heart. At least he knew where I was.

By the time I was released I was numb, drained and in dire need of a hot shower.

This all taught me a very important lesson - I could have killed someone or myself that night. I ended up in a jail cell but I could just as easily have ended up as a corpse in a morgue.

Legally, drunk driving is defined as operating a vehicle with a blood alcohol level of more than 0.05g per 100 millilitres. So, unless you aspire to be a drunk driving statistic, your choices are simple.

Either appoint a designated driver or call a cab, but whatever you do don't drive after you have had more than one alcoholic drink.

*Names have been changed to protect the guilty parties.

• Next week Vuyi interviews the victim of a drunk driving incident.