Bob goes to Jail

Pictures: http://s216.photobucket.com/albums/cc311/rtwilli4/


So, if you don't know who Bob is, you need to read the post titled "Auckland slash Rum Night" from about a month ago.

Bob is a member of our traveling group that is just completely irresponsible and usually drunk. The alcoholic is a fun guy to watch but he causes problems and will not stop following us around.

So, on a day we have off from the vineyard, we decide to go to the bar and see if we can catch some cool sports of TV. Well, Bob has his own plan. He wants to take the van down to the beach and come pick us up from the bar after a few hours. We think that sounds fine. We inform Bob of how much gas is in the van (so we don't have another epic day searching for petrol), and tell him to be careful, and that we'll see him around 6pm.

So we hang out in the bar, meet some of the locals, tell stories, that sort of thing. The bar was surprisingly busy even though it was a Sunday afternoon. I think some of the people had just left church actually. It was a fun crowd, and everyone was betting on a horse race that was on TV, which was cool to see.

So 6pm comes and goes, no Bob. 7pm, 8pm, no Bob. The bar closes at 8:30, and we decide that we need to find a way back to the cottage at the vineyard. We ask an old guy who we have been playing pool with and he says "sure, I'll get you a ride."

The two of us walk outside to have a cigarette when a drunk old lady stumbles out of the door and mumbles, "oh, I haven't been drinking." We think "yea right, be careful grandma." Next thing we know, she is backing her car up to us, telling us to get in if we want a ride. This was the ride that the old man has found for us.

Martinboro is small, and empty, as is the road to the vineyard. We figure it is ok, and jump in. We make it home safely...I hope the old lady did as well because when she left us I was not completely sure that she would be ok.

So we go to bed, get up the next morning...NO BOB! Where the hell is this guy. We check the online version of the newspaper and see nothing that would lead us to believe that anything happened to him. We worked all day, and still didn't hear anything about Bob or our van, which had all of our belongings in it. Just when we were thinking that he may have driven off a cliff, Bob comes walking up the driveway with a smirk on his face. Keep in mind that he is now 24 hours late.

"Bob, where have you been?! Where is the van!?"

"Oh, the van is at the police station in Masterton and I spent the night in jail."

Bob had decided to get a 6pack to take to the beach with him while the rest of us were at the bar. Not sure what the thinking was here, but he had to drive an hour just to get to the beach and an hour back to the bar. This gave him about an hour on the beach, in which he decided to chug six beers. Not a great idea, especially when you are driving a shitty van in a foreign country with curvy mountain roads.

So the van overheats, as it likes to do, and Bob pulls over to let it cool down and put some water in it. Before the van cools off, a police officer sees Bob on the side of the road and pulls over to see if there is a problem. He immediately smells the alcohol on Bob, and gives him a breath test. Needless to say, Bob fails and spends a night in jail.

To make things worse, the jail is an hour away and another cop drives the van all the way there without putting any more coolant in it. This was not ideal, and probably hurt the van's chances of making back to Auckland in one piece.

Consequences:
-one night in jail, with breakfast!
-$1000 New Zealand dollar fine (about $800 USD)
-Extremely bad day for the engine in the van
-Bus trip back up to Masterton (1 hour) to get the van
-one damn funny story, thank goodness Bob was in jail and not off the side of a mountain!