Madison's DUI: A Suburban Housewife's Arrest For Drunk Driving

Madison always looked forward to the Wednesday night dinner with her girlfriends. Despite cutting the number of hours that she worked at the firm to spend time with her family, the busy life of a “stay at home mom” quickly devoured any leisure time that she had once anticipated having. Dropping off and picking up the kids at school, grocery shopping, the cleaners, pet groomers, soccer practice, dance lessons, and all of the other seemingly endless responsibilities that fell upon her as a homemaker.

When she finally told her husband that she needed a night of her own—one where he didn’t find a reason to stay at his office in Arlington until eight or nine—he groused a bit, but reluctantly agreed that it was only fair for her to have a little time for herself. That was three months ago, and with the exception of one night when their daughter Kara had a recital, she had not missed a dinner with Sarah, Bernadette, and the occasional fourth party.

Although, the ladies always chose a restaurant for dinner, the real purpose for the meeting was to have a few drinks and to socialize. Madison would routinely have a martini at the bar, a glass of wine or two at the table, and occasionally a dessert cocktail after dinner. On this particular occasion, she held to this pattern, although she may have had an extra glass of wine with dinner—it’s hard to keep track once the bottle is opened. It didn’t matter: tonight’s venue was only a few miles from her home in Fairfax and she didn’t really feel drunk.

As a rule, Madison and her friends would text each other with some funny line when they got home. It served the dual purpose of letting one another know that they were safe and closing the evening with a laugh. Madison’s cell phone was charging in the center console when she heard the chiming sound alerting her that a text message was coming in. The next few events occurred very quickly. Madison glanced down to see the message and inadvertently swerved to the right. She then overcorrected and drove into the left lane. Almost immediately, the blue lights of a Fairfax County deputy sheriff’s patrol car illuminated the interior of her Lexus SUV.

As would be expected, Madison was nervous. She didn’t think that she had done anything that was so bad that she couldn’t explain her way out of it. In the worst-case scenario, she’d receive a citation. Not a big deal. She could hire a ticket attorney to take care of it.

When the police officer approached her door, she began to apologetically explain that she had been momentarily distracted by her phone and it caused her to swerve. The officer requested her driver’s license and registration and asked if she had been drinking. Madison knew that it was unwise to lie and claim that she had nothing to drink, but she was sure she wasn’t drunk. However, she must smell at least a little like booze. She replied somewhat honestly that she had had a couple of glasses of wine, but she felt fine. When the officer asked her to step out of the car, she became anxious.

“Is this all really necessary, officer. I’m not drunk, and my house is only a few more blocks,” she said with a little less conviction in her voice than she would have liked.

After asking her a few questions, the officer asked her if she would consent to voluntary roadside exercises. Madison was confident that even after the few drinks that she had, she could successfully pass the tests. “Besides,” she thought, “refusing them would be an admission of guilt, and I’m not drunk.” Although she felt that she performed adequately, at the end of the tests, the officer politely but firmly asked her to turn around and place her hands behind her back. Madison couldn’t believe that this was happening. She began to plead with the officer, but he was unrelenting. If it wasn’t for the dull pain that she felt every time she moved her wrists, she might have believed this was a dream. According to the police report, she had consented to a blood alcohol breath test. While she remembered breathing into the apparatus, the details of any prior discussion eluded her.

To her surprise, Madison’s husband was more sympathetic than she had anticipated. His demeanor was more one of concern than irritation. He had asked their neighbor to watch the children so he could quietly arrange bail and pick her up. Within eight hours of the traffic stop, Madison was back home trying to make herself presentable before the children woke up. Other than an innocent question from her Kara about why she looked so tired, the kids were unaware that anything had transpired. They didn’t even ask why their father was driving them to school—it had been over a year since he had offered to do this for Madison. Today it was a necessity; because her blood alcohol content exceeded .08 (.11 to be exact), Madison’s license had been suspended.

Once her family had left, Madison sat at the table drinking strong, black coffee, running through the details of the traffic stop in her mind. She never thought of herself as a drunk driver, yet here she was. Finding no satisfaction in going over the fuzzy events of the previous evening, she decided to map out a plan of action. She would need to find a reputable DUI attorney who handles cases in the Fairfax, Virginia area. She would ask her family estate planning lawyer for a referral. The arresting officer had told her about something called a “Cinderella license.” He said that it was a restricted driver’s license that would allow her to go to work and pick up the children from school. That seemed like a good thing to have, but there was no guarantee that she would qualify. Even if she did, it only covered about a quarter of her routine driving. There were games, practices, errands, yoga three times a week, taking her husband to the airport, et cetera. Madison took out a legal pad and began writing questions to ask her DUI lawyer (once she had one). Her only hope was to find an attorney who was familiar enough with Virginia’s DWI laws to beat the charge.

As uncertain as Madison’s future was, she was sure of one thing: Wednesday nights with the girls were suspended indefinitely.