The Cure - Boys Don't Cry
A few decades ago - or maybe just yesterday - I was stopped by the carabinieri, at about this time, while I was calmly listening to this song; registering a blood alcohol level of 3.86.
Astonished that I could still stand, they had no choice but to seize my car and revoke my license for two years.
Just now the same thing: twenty minutes ago from when I'm writing.
"I'm screwed, I think."
I remember drinking half a liter of ribolla, plus four shots of Merlot, a beer - interspersed with a Wiener Schnitzel, in my favor but not counting the Schnapps Aprikott as a cover - and three Glen Livet + a terrible watermelon vodka offered to me by the unfortunate barmaid.

"License and registration."
Well, what the hell can you say to that!

She - a woman thanks to the Dèe - once she checked the documents says to me: "GO!" Just like that, in uppercase.

I want to marry her!