Back in the early 1980s, when TikToker @driftergrey was in his twenties, he and a bunch of his friends decided to go out and party one Saturday night. They picked someone to be the designated driver, went down to the bar, and began drinking.
Later in the night, their designated driver received a call about a serious emergency and had to leave. Without a driver, they didn’t have a safe way to get home.
There was no taxi service in the rural town. Some of the guys were eventually able to find a way home, but @driftergrey didn’t. So, he ended up making a bad decision.
“It was probably only a three-to five-mile drive from that bar to where I lived,” said @driftergrey. “I got in my car and started driving home, and sure enough, I passed out behind the wheel.”
“I was wakened shortly thereafter by the blaring of horns, and I mean very big horns. I woke up, and I am getting ready to dead center punch an 18-wheeler.”
He tried to turn the steering wheel to avoid the truck, but it wouldn’t budge. When he looked down, he saw another pair of hands that weren’t his. They were bony and about twice as long as his hands. The skin was grayish-blue, and the fingernails were black.
The accelerator was pushed all the way down, even though @driftergrey’s feet weren’t pressing any of the pedals. Adrenaline kicked in, and he cranked the wheel as hard as he could.
“The instant I did, those hands disappeared, the gas pedal let off, I slammed the brakes, but I instantly lost control of the vehicle,” recalled @driftergrey.
“I went off the road, down through the ditch, and right through a farmer’s wooden fence and came to a stop in his field.”
A pickup truck pulled up behind him, and two guys got out to check on him. He could tell that the guys knew he had been drinking. After they took off, a police officer showed up and let him off with a scary warning.
He headed straight home, dove into bed, and slept for a few hours. Then, he woke up, choked down a cup or two of instant coffee, and went back to his car, which was still on the embankment on the side of the road.
He grabbed rakes and shovels to fix up the farmer’s pasture and hammered in the fence’s boards.
“I was working just as quietly and as quickly as I possibly could because I wanted to get out of there before the crack of dawn, before anybody knew what had happened,” said @driftergrey.
“So, I’m packing up the last of my tools into the truck, getting ready to leave, and I hear behind me, this slow clap. I turned around, and there sat the farmer on his porch.”
After exchanging niceties with the farmer, he climbed back into his vehicle and went home. That was the last time he ever drove under the influence.
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By Emily Chan
Emily Chan is a writer who covers lifestyle and news content. She graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in... More about Emily Chan
