I own a rear-wheel-drive 350hp sportscar, and I consider myself to be a safe driver, contrary to what some Buzzfeed writer feels will justify his narrative.
Yesterday I found myself on a side street in some random Wisconsin small town. The curb was lined with people decked out in school colors waiting for a Homecoming parade. I was so afraid of running over a little kid, I think I drove under 5 mph, but once I escaped the town back onto the open spaghetti asphalt the beans were given.
Which is a great example of my point: I enjoy exploiting the boundaries of wheel-slippage, sure, but only when I know the coast is clear and I have no one to harm but myself. I know the limits of my car and the consequences of getting it wrong.
I never want to not be able to drive. This crosses over to my consumption of alcohol when I know I might or have to drive. It’s not just about putting myself into a situation where I would get a DUI (something I would never do), even after a little I can’t control my car the way I want to; I absolutely hate it.
I loose the connection between me and the car; I can’t feel the road, what the rear wheels are doing, or the chassis though my seat like I’m used to. After a drink I strongly consider not driving, even if I don’t feel a thing yet as I know I’m compromised when I get into the driver’s seat. It’s like giving a Formula 1 driver feather pillows to sit on.
And I don’t think I’m just an exception to the rule.