On the Saturday of the Craft Fair, we had the Awards Presentation. It started at 6.30 and one of the late-comers mentioned that the police were setting up an RBT at the corner of the street leading up to the venue. What a cheek! Clearly, we were being targeted because the set-up would not have caught anyone else.
I did tell everyone at the start of the evening but they all forgot and there were one or two a bit unsure of whether they might be in trouble. One of the judges was particularly worried so I suggested Marilyn walk her up to the next street, and I would drive her car around to pick her up. (It's called 'compounding a felony'). All went well, I was duly breath-tested, allowed to drive on and delivered the car to her.
Marilyn and I walked back to our car and joined the back of the line waiting to be tested. 'What if he recognises you?' said Marilyn. 'Don't worry, I'll put on my glasses', I said. (Works for Clark Kent!). We drove up, rolled down the window. 'Good evening, sir. Just blow in here. Hang on, you were here a few minutes ago.'
It's a bugger being recognisable.
To make matters worse, we were heading out to the Raspberry Farm for dinner. On the way back, the RBT station had been moved to the top roundabout in Deloraine, and we all got caught again. Luckily, we had Martin driving and he hasn't had a drink in 20 years. It's a shame, though, that the police obviously knew our plans and set out deliberately to catch a rogue Rotarian or two.
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